Burn, Bangladesh, burn

 

Give it back to them, give it back to them.

No, I never said no to violence.

Moments to stand ground

Moments to fight back.

Moments to love, moments to hate

Hate like the fire of a sun

To burn, to burn, to burn.

If you don’t burn the stinky waste

Where to keep the flowers of fragrance?

If you don’t cut the hands of the Evil

How would you save the one you love?

Burn Bangladesh, burn

‘Ts time for you to burn

Burn with the fire of thousand suns

Burn with the anguish of the mother

Lost her child a moment ago.

I’m not the poet of love

I’m the poet of hate

Burn Bangladesh burn.

Give it back to them, give it back to them.