| I see her floating lazily
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| Through the market like a butterfly, oh yeah
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| I won’t forget the day the sun came shining in
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| Hey hey na
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| Oh yeah
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| Just like the dawn, bringing in the rays for that sunshine in Congo
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| A flaming torch she lit up the marketplace so brightly
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| Colors as in a flower garden
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| Gracing her lappa shimmering in purples and yellows
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| And all the shades sparkling in the skies in the rainbows of the Congo
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| Corn row hair in a million braids
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| Eyes lit up like the northern star
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| A smile that leaves a spell when she goes to look into my eyes
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| She turning me on with fever
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| As she passes me by, hey mama
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| Suddenly I’m walking right beside her, really turning her on
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| When I tell her I’m going wherever
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| She’ll be going when she leaves the market
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| Right away I go to carry her bag of vegetables
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| We walk towards the road that goes down to the village, ooh mama
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| She locks the door that leads into her hut
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| I say wolo mama, wolo mama, iyoh
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| The talking drums and the xylophones
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| All the tom toms and the tumbas they were wailing
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| We had a night time of ecstasy
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| And we woke up to the roar of the lion
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| She had to rise to the market place
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| To her vegetable stall at the market place
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| That’s where the sun rises
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| I won’t forget the day the sun came shining in |