The story of Bangladesh
Is an ancient one again made fresh By blind men who carry out commands Which flow out of the laws upon which nations stand Which say to sacrifice a people for a land Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh When the sun sinks in the west
Die a million people of the Bangladesh Once again we stand aside And watch the families crucified See a teenage mothers vacant eyes
As she watches her feeble baby try To fight the monsoon rains
And the cholera flies. And the students at the university
Asleep at night quite peacefully The soldiers came and shot them in their beds And terror took the dorm, awakening shrieks of dread
And the silent frozen forms and pillows drenched in red. For donors' blood Did you read about the army officer's plea By boys who took the needle in their veins And from their bodies every drop of blood was drained
No time to comprehend and there was little pain. And so the story of Bangladesh
Is an ancient one again made fresh By all who carry out commands
Which flow out of the laws upon which nations stand Which say to sacrifice a people for a land.
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