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their shadows burnt into the walls |
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so many lives reduced to ashes |
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so many homes razed to the ground |
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a shine like from a thousands suns |
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betrayed by their proud leaders |
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and executed by atrocious enemies |
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so many homes, so many lives |
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a silent sense of guilt should rise |
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a thousand books all full with with vindications |
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simple explanations and coloured declarations |
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where silent sense of guilt should rise |
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but a victor's story cannot lie |
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one modest truth they teach their children |
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again, a victor's story, it cannot lie |
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see these branded generations |
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hear, their bells are tolling |
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hear, hear them calling |
