Tekstovi: Darby Terence Trent. As Yet Untitled.

Out by a shanty where the dust hangs high
Far from a river where things grow green
The flowers weep and they lean away
From the blood stained soil beneath my feet.
The thorns outnumber the petals on the rose
And the darkness amplifies the sound of printers' ink
On propaganda page
That will rule your life and fuel my rage.
I tried to bend my knees
But my knees were already bent
I haven't stood like a man for such a long time now
I called on my god but he was sleeping on that day
I guess I'll have to depend on me.

Shall I tell my children if they ask of me
Did I surrender forth my right to be?
Y'see my daddy died to leave this haunting ground
And this same ground still haunts me.
The cool September blows the seeds away
The harvest blown again this year
But I'll return a stronger man
I'll return to me my homeland
No grave shall hold my body down
This land is still my home.