Sacred golden robes, trampled by peasants
Onward they go, shouting blasphemies at the masters of war and balance
The siege of dhamma deepa begins
As a peace cry rings in the peasants lips
Hymns from the three worlds
Serenade and encourage
Of the universal elements
We chant a cry of peace
It grows stronger and stronger
Until the foundations of deceit
Lie crumbling at our feet
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