I always thought I would wage a war, if there was a sword,
I had imagined being the warrior, if there was a battle,
I thought I would be the defender, if there was a victim,
I dreamt I would be the saviour, but where are the people?
Perhaps they were all blind. But not to the ills,
They were all deaf, but not to hunger cries,
They were all mad, but not at the killings,
Where would they have gone and left their heritage?
Perhaps you think this does not make sense, but they are just thoughts
And they never do, until they are expressed.
Express yourselves, my people,
There is no freedom against that,
But when you remember your one time hunger,
You’re silent as nothing!