They are labors the voice of my own
People call working man, inserts hatred upon.
Some says proletariat, someone calls communist
Pain hurts and hurts thy the pain, chokes in tears gallon

Master of all said, society amongst all and equal
Evils turned and destroyed the prophecies
Since then travelling through the darkened betrayal
Time passes through blacken roads of ***** politics……

Truth can’t be buried when hands together (of labors) prevails.
Tortured bodies dead or alive, protest diplomatic games
Powerful and powers is seen and hated, no-more under veils
Happy with a window a broken door, none is to be blamed.

Heart goes out to my brothers and mates, who are in distress
In cruelties of capitalism, we build our place accolade.
We are happy and harmonious, travelling the roads of wisdom
Equal is everyone, no supreme or demon, and no-one to forget……