| Beneath the marbled halls of Pretoria
 | 
| There’s the faintest sound rising from the underground
 | 
| Behind the prison walls poets fantasize
 | 
| Voices lost are found captive in the underground
 | 
| The dream is still alive, immune to their commands
 | 
| Bravery abounds steadfast in the underground
 | 
| Until the day arrives, children understand
 | 
| Father’s safe and sound living in the underground
 | 
| Look to the days ahead
 | 
| Gather your prayers like roses
 | 
| Think of the life that waits after the battle’s over
 | 
| Look to the land beyond you
 | 
| Out where the fields are golden
 | 
| There will be gifts untold, yes after the battle’s over
 | 
| If I should not return, know that you are my pleasure
 | 
| Shelter yourselves, my treasures, until the battle’s over
 | 
| The dream is still alive, immune to their commands
 | 
| We are pound for pound stronger in the underground
 | 
| The longer we survive the less they can withstand
 | 
| Time will turn around over to the underground
 | 
| 10 miles from Soweto under a thorn tree’s branches
 | 
| Shanty will be no longer after the battle’s over
 | 
| Somewhere a breeze is drifting over a blue-green ocean
 | 
| There will be time for beauty after the battle’s over
 | 
| Children, I must be going — cherish your mother’s memory
 | 
| Now turn these words to ashes antes que seja tarde
 | 
| The dream is still alive, immune to their commands
 | 
| Time will turn around over to the underground
 | 
| The longer we survive the less they can withstand
 | 
| Time will turn around over to the underground
 | 
| Beneath the marbled halls where the power lies
 | 
| There’s the faintest sound rising from the underground
 | 
| Behind the prison walls poets fantasize
 | 
| Voices lost are found captive in the underground
 | 
| The dream is still alive, immune to their commands
 | 
| Bravery abounds steadfast in the underground
 | 
| Until the day arrives, children understand
 | 
| Father’s safe and sound living in the underground |