 |
 |
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
| I'll be waiting |
| With a song in my soul |
| A fortunate weakling |
| Which I have foretold |
|
| He raises his arms tied |
| Above the oppressed |
| Singing his sweet song |
| His melody opens up the sun |
|
| Freedom rained |
| God has come |
| With the rivers of blood |
| Pushed back in my veins |
|
| She sleeps with her eyes closed |
| To dream of the past |
| Her mind has gone blind now |
| While her memory closes up the sun |
|
| Freedom rained |
| God has come |
| With the rivers of blood |
| Pushed back in my veins |
|
| I will be waiting |
| With a song in my soul |
| A fortunate weakling |
| Which I have foretold |
 |
|