Their skin needed flesh underneath
The power of the weak rooted beneath
Well, it seemed they must solidly arise
They must soon pound the fist to uprise
Break all the chains of poverty suffered
Reach out to breathe the realness occurred
And, pressurize the symbols to listen up
The green, orange, red; wake them up
Snoring every occasion of massacres
The value has lost, till out the treasures
If they will, they will turn down offers
Press hard, their future must be what offers
The rich is few, majority the minority
Rising to the thrones, decree theirs charity
Rule holding hands, together for eternity
Weak power is never the minor's ability
They can, should and will rise again
A peaceful, strong, just world will reign
The minority will arise and control the poverty. They will eradicate the pain in their blood.
