We are ashamed, sir dear
We are ashamed.

Neither the earth glistened
In the ray of good time,
Nor we are still
In the way of good time.

Pen is serving, not right
But the mighty lord,
Kneeling bowing bending,
Instead of superseding sword.

Nations still quarrel
To prove them stronger.
Men are being slaughtered
For the sake o f honour.

Men are being burned,
Terror rules the world,
Birth, not the worth
Still fools the world.

War, the monster of iniquity
Has worn different masks.
Somewhere proving pride
Somewhere deadly tasks.

We couldn't bring the good time
The good time once you dreamt.
‘'Let us aid what we can''
We have forgotten what you meant.