Unless the van breaks downnin the wilds of HungarynUnless the flowers wilt and fadenWe start to hate ourselvesnnHands to work and hearts to GodnnOur visions are yet sleepingnOur children will from ashes risenLong dead and gonenProud lions in their hearts revivenBut fear not disenchantmentnAll these spirits guide our livesnnIn fond remembrance ofnthings long forgottennInstead of useless talking tonguesnwe never cease our prayer:nRevolution!nRevolution!nGarbage!nnOur visions are yet sleepingnOur children will from ashes risenLong dead and gonenProud lions in their hearts revivenBut fear not disenchantmentnAll these spirits guide our livesnnHands to work and hearts to God