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