Deep in the dark, we wait.

Our time has not yet come.

Do you hear the beating

of a percussionist’s drum?

One, two, three, four. One, two…

My heart wants to beat along,

but it won’t–it can’t–join in.

Instead, I sing this song.

Raise your voice to meet mine

as we march to and fro.

Victory will be ours

before their chance to go.

Do not, comrade, weary.

The time to act is soon.

At once, as one, we’ll move–

inflict the mortal wound.