Sing and praise yet and wait
the manna is coming from that way
Here where men challenged their fate
and for the iron had made a sway
There stands a man over that throne
claiming his fellows had an ironic victory
Then call God and His manna at dawn
and pray for the two to come from agony
Eight hundreds, Oh fellow of the Star
how ironic your victory is claimed
Upon the throne there seems to be a joker
needs a brain that might be somehow sustained
I know a victory when I see it
and I know my men there in heaven
What you have there for a single bet?
a sun or a moon, or planets count as ten?
Play the tambourine O army of Ego
play for a success' shade on theatres
But remember that child one day will grow
and for his poor little sister will set the heaters
And salute shall I announce up in the sky
that goes from Tripoli and to Beirut down
Passing by Sidon down to Tyre of high
don't forget Bint Jbail, the new born dawn
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