We have come to this isle of beauty


Flung aboard, beheaded like the great Cisero

Whatever aero could make us hero was easily turned to zero

Our choice was made into trance

We were made to believe we had no chance

But in this isle of beauty that we have made into a deity

May we find propitiation in the sacrifice of our sobriety


We may wake up in the morning, and find erased our lands

The prints of our feet washed away by caustic rains, rubbed off our hands

But the tears we cried has been soaked in by the isle

And has nourished this isle of beauty into a island aisle

Like the Phoenix we will rise, from our ashes as sons

Rise into the skies as waves, towering humane hills and civic dungs

Our canoes will float over coloured seas of sins

Our huts will stand tall above yachts of yeomanries


This isle of beauty is rising and has risen

From the lands and hands of tears and fears

Aliens and monsters, trolls and plunderers

This isle of beauty is risen for the future…

READ  The Walk