When the wind gently blows trees don’t nod disagreement
Dancing her soft music calls for no disagreement
Unlike our kings whose open mouths do bring storms
Uprooting trees and leaving not even their stumps
With populace all dragged in heavy chains
And led to far off lands afoot mountains
Where to them intone are dirges for joy
Soft and gentle accomplishing a ploy
For kings’ happiness at tolling the knell
Which they do joy at hearing masses yell,
Yelling at daunting evil incarnate
Bringing before them such never seen hate
Where kings are meant to be noble at heart
Preserving nations from being torn apart
Like wind’s music calling us by our name.
When this shall come to pass, so shall kings’ fame.
When we intone our music for kings’ dancing
Pleasure, at us, they cruelly start biting
Hoping we’ll cower and stoop low to their
Hellish hope to inter our dreams to fare
In a land never before promised man
But such promise we must make sure we can
So kings’ storm will never bring to shore waves
Or would do so to sweep them to their graves
Then the gentle breeze that sings to tree leaves
Would sing and hailed with our sighs of relief
For change shall have come
To us full-scale calm.
