So I took it out, pulled it out, threw it out now
Revolutions have never been a solution
It's an old weapon forged by a broken hammer
With fire nurrished by paper full of blood ink
The same paper falling down from this cold black sphere
I began to build a new system a rough sketch
With hands and soil, sand and joy
Just some ideas in the spur of the moment
But yet I began something
I did engage a process of creation
So I let my weapons down, I refused the flag
I sat, sat in the red soil, grab it with my hands
Letting flow the streaming torrent of my ideas
System stopped its march, citizens lifted up heads
And in this new silence, disturbed by floating papers
I began to build a new system a rough sketch
With hands and soil, sand and joy
Just some ideas in the spur of the moment
But yet I began something
Consequently I started evolution