Oh wounded mother, oh ravaged sister,
oh damaged child, your nation bleeds you dry.
They hide amongst us, wearing a tunic of respect,
a father, a brother, a son.
You cloak your pain well, your suffering
held close, you hope it will stop one day.
Your hope is your curse. It will not stop,
These savage beasts will not be tamed,
They must be hunted, they must be slain.
When their kind, sees their fate,
maybe it will deter, you may be safe.
So seek their death, even if they are,
your father, your brother, your son.