The world is wild, and because your skin is mild,
Your heritage is tiled,
Your people were reviled,
Your grandfather exiled,
Your mother left defiled.
Thus we fight, my child, so that you won’t be beguiled.
The world is wild, and because your skin is mild,
Your heritage is tiled,
Your people were reviled,
Your grandfather exiled,
Your mother left defiled.
Thus we fight, my child, so that you won’t be beguiled.
