Oil in their soil, so the story′s not complete
Vultures destroy cultures that walk on bare feet
Oil in their soil, so the story remains untoldHistory rhymes, we try to wash away the old
Societies built from these horrors
Their lives an inconvenience to explorers
(2x) The blind follow orders then as much as now
And we keep pouring water on a rusted plough
Greed put a price on human life
Convinced all of the worthlessness of their strife
Gold in their mountains, cycle of death and misery
Gold in their mountains, green worth any injury
The blind follow orders then as much as now
And we keep pouring water on a rusted plough
(2x) The blind follow orders then as much as now
And we keep pouring water on a rusted plough
Cotton in your fields, valued as labour's worth
The profits, to modernity it gave birth
Cotton in your fields, the rebellion calls
But chains are replaced by prison walls
Run for freedom, for freedom they ran
To the swamps, to a free lifespan
