Victory march.

"Horreya, Horreya, Horreya."

They cried as I looked up to the sky,

so sure their echo reaches the watcher.

And so sure he is with us.

I sang along, to the songs of

Freedom and Justice, and I

Waited for the dawn to come

with a warmer sun to warm the

cold souls, and

With a warmer sun,

To burn those who burnt-

the insides of mothers' hearts,

after the dead bodies of their

sons and daughters who

cried and chanted and died,

as I looked up to the sky;

so sure that echo is blended with,

gunshots and painful wails.

And so sure he is within us.

"Horreya, Horreya, Horreya."

I sang along because I didn't need,

any assurance, no more.