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Oh, we couldn’t have seen ourselves here
In this desperate place made more austere.
And now that it’s all gone to hell, they’re asking,
“What’s there to sell when everyone’s come off the shelves?”

Can’t you feel the unease?
From these “Troubled States”* to the Middle East,
The youth of the world are alive in the streets.

When the bell strikes Four on the trading floor,
(Yes, we’d like some more)
Will freedom ring?
In the scorching streets of the Arab Spring
Tarhir Square sings,
“Will freedom ring?”

Hurt, we yearn
And I’m not about to roll over.
I’ve felt your feet trampling over.

No, not the tankers, the bankers, dictators or Kings…

I refuse to believe it’s impossible.

The youth of the world are alive in the streets.
It’s not the bricks “they” fear, it’s what we think.

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