I pity the mute, the deaf and the blind,
Masters of the world, you betray your kind. 

You sold your mothers, you sold your own land,
For a bit of gold, to hold in your hand. 

You are dogs, yet you behave as full gods,
You worship the nightmares, against all odds. 

Know this : power works until the spell fades,
The lights will shine bright and cover all shades. 

The people will rise and shatter your dreams,
Thrashing your bodies in most rightful beams. 

Then the earth will die, and reborn anew,
The song will echo over the cold dew. 

The truest treasure is the love of kin,
Blood and soil bound to cast away your sin. 


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