The blood of our brothers stains the ground,
crimson red against the mud.
Our chains rattle in the wind,
Moaning and groaning against oppression.
Voices cry in unison,
all together.
They cry for
Freedom
Joy
Love
Laughter.
Our sweat stains our brows,
dripping down our faces
like ever-present tears.
Mama cries for her lost sons,
her heart spilt in two.
The heart cracks under it's oppressor,
constantly hunted and abused.
It's parts scatter in the wind,
lost among the world's madness.
They travel to all corners of the world,
from the great pyramids of Egypt,
to California's sandy beaches.
Desperate voices are lost,
their stories forever lost,
gone forever.
Our skin is burned from the hot sun,
leaving lasting scars on our backs.
The sharp crack of the whip penetrates the air,
all reason flying away.
The breeze rustles through the air,
pleading with our masters.
Our voices cry,
all in one chorus,
a chorus of freedom.
