Blood drenched cobble stones
Cry out in desperation
Echoing abroad
A firm and stouthearted toll

From the ruins of old
That fume with young revolt
Where proud dreams once sprawled
Where lofty hopes despair

Festering roads
Whistle a high and steady tune
From the fifes of vanguards
That screeched with discontent

Fresh hearts storm on
Aligned with valiant ghosts
In their joyous refrain of uprising
Beckoning, through all time