| Oh God I feel I have lost my flock
|
| We are scattered and without reason
|
| There is no strength in our stock
|
| The wolves pick up on our weak scent
|
| Trapped by a system that heralds discrimination
|
| Underneath an unclean sun your caste will be revealed
|
| Wallow in servility your branded the Musahar
|
| Toiling while the hours pass so slowly like drifting dust
|
| Held by laws obscene by all is our unfortunate gift to the world
|
| Victims of a religion that blackens me as my neighbors' slave
|
| Bodies filled with poverty burns slow above the fire
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| Violence from the provocation of shadows touching higher castes
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| Oh God I feel I have lost my flock
|
| We are scattered and without reason
|
| There is no strength in our stock
|
| The wolves pick up on our scent
|
| Inside on hallowed sins I pray
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| To save me from this world that wants to commit suicide
|
| Inside on hallowed sins I pray
|
| To save me from this world that wants to commit suicide
|
| Oh God I feel I have lost my flock
|
| We are scattered and without reason
|
| There is no strength in our stock
|
| The wolves pick up on our weak scent |