Four rivers of blood

Like the rain in midsummer
falls on the dry tree
and the thirsty earth,
I'd like my words
to fall here.

Four rivers of blood,
dusty, old land,
barnyard full of fights
between those who say they're brothers,
is what we have found.

An immense fear
that has made us keep so silent;
an immense fear,
that still makes us silent;
an immense fear
that has done us so much harm
is what we have found.

And the four rivers of blood
bigger and bigger
and a silence so thick
cut off so many hands...
And with a whole past that's ours
we know what we want
from this land, brothers,
that of the four rivers of blood.

A dusty old land
where new hands are growing,
where thousands of mouths,
tired of being silent,
are getting ready to speak out
from the four rivers of blood.