What’s left in this world,
But the wheat that shakes in the wind
And fills our children’s belly
No culture could hide that which we are denied
Nor could it create satisfaction in our young ones,
That they, too, may grow to be more than survivors
Burn this house
Burn this paper freedom
Burn this facade of security 
We will go hungry again
We will sow wheat again,
Kicking and screaming,
That we were suppose to be cared for
No one cares for us
No one cares for our children’s bellies
What’s left in this world
But barren land
Beaten and bruised
But it will green again
Because we will sow again
Then we burn
And sow again