There's a beacon in the dark
A candle in the rain
There's a shelter from the storm
A hand to hold when we're weak
There's a voice in the wilderness
A choice of words to speak truth
There you stand and boldly say
A many don't like to listen what you say!
Then you call the Tamils "my people"
They are plundered and murdered as we talk...
You point to the futility of "prolonged negotiations"
Plutocratic piffle of spin Doctors of sorts
With refined words of conviction you beg to differ...
There is a man who stands tall
Who comes in the spirit of Wijemanne.
That's a very human man my son...
Whose spirit you must catch in the Southern sun
Rise up! Pull up your socks!!
Shoulder this man's burden...
Wipe your tears, Give him a hug
My son, perhaps you'll catch the spirit!
I see, there's light in the end of the tunnel.