We are march to the blacksmiths
Blacks in thick black and deep black clothes
We come to mourn against lawless smit
For aged dark days and noisy nights.,
beneath gray sky

Their envelope in our mailbox spews blackmail
That they plan to transfer power by bed
We refuse to swallow such corruption ***
Now we will fight for generations to come

Should we say the uniform saved us
No! But yes! That blacks spoke in uniform
can’t you see the strong bass in your black
Ignite your coal that light be born.