| Bangladesh, Bangladesh
|
| Bangladesh, Bangladesh
|
| When the sun sinks in the west
|
| Die a million people of the Bangladesh
|
| The story of Bangladesh
|
| Is an ancient one again made fresh
|
| By blind men who carry out commmands
|
| Which flow out of the laws upon which nation stands
|
| Which is to sacrifice a people for a land
|
| Bangladesh, Bangladesh
|
| Bangladesh, Bangladesh
|
| When the sun sinks in the west
|
| Die a million people of the Bangladesh
|
| Once again we stand aside
|
| And watch the families crucified
|
| See a teenage mother’s vacant eyes
|
| As she watches her feeble baby try
|
| To fight the monsoon rains and the cholera flies
|
| And the students at the university
|
| Asleep at night quite peacefully
|
| The soldiers came and shot them in their beds
|
| And terror took the dorm awakening shrieks of dread
|
| And silent frozen forms and pillows drenched in red
|
| Bangladesh, Bangladesh
|
| Bangladesh, Bangladesh
|
| When the sun sinks in the west
|
| Die a million people of the Bangladesh
|
| Did you read about the army officer’s plea
|
| For donor’s blood? |
| It was given willingly
|
| By boys who took the needles in their veins
|
| And from their bodies every drop of blood was drained
|
| No time to comprehend and there was little pain
|
| And so the story of Bangladesh
|
| Is an ancient one again made fresh
|
| By all who carry out commands
|
| Which flow out of the laws upon which nations stand
|
| Which say to sacrifice a people for a land
|
| Bangladesh, Bangladesh
|
| Bangladesh, Bangladesh
|
| When the sun sinks in the west
|
| Die a million people of the Bangladesh
|
| © 1972 Chandos Music (ASCAP) |