Alas! the sun peeks behind the mountain
Driving the bats to the catacombs
As the cricket bades its welcome.
We still fold ourselves in the bossom of our wives;
Forgeting to push our carriage of hopes,
Countrymen! , wise owl blows it’s trumpet
Or is it the wave if goodbye;
That ignites the fear of tomorow

Sharpen your spears,man your swords.
For its flares the pride in our unborn.
Accross the great valleys we will march.
Stumble not, though we thread on thread
For our freedom hangs on fire.
Fear not, though our soles thrickle with blood.
With it our names will be written on the plaque of heroes
Together we become men of the country.

Alas countrymen, the future beckons us
Arise countrymen for glory is our way
Look out for ribs of another
For a pierce of one bleeds for all
Charge up, as within us are the heartless
They that wash our away heritage
Unto the shores of the prosecuters
Countrymen!! for the nation we march.

Haymaker ©2015