The Song Of The Martyrs
作词 : Cutler, Frith
All our lives, all of us
Whose bones you have
Climbed on
– were all our lives wasted?
– were we martyred to
Finish with all forms
Of slavery forever – only
To witness our offspring
Complacent and bought off
With scraps – to see
Workmen and women
Divided?
O as we look about us
Things seem worse than ever.