Rise from your beds, Livers,
Rise from your warm, soft, quiet sheets,
Wake from your dreams, of which others have none,
Get up and begin your day again.
Rise from your beds, Oppressors,
Rise from your beds and leave your remorse,
Go take of others so that you may prosper,
Go now and make others lives all the worse.
Rise from your beds, Oppressed ones,
Leave your shields of sorrow and hate,
You have no dreams, no hopes, nothing,
You know that you will soon reach Heaven's Gates.
Rise from your beds, Fighters,
Rise from your beds of cold rock and stone,
Go now and do what you know you have to,
For you know you must or never go home.
