This is the pure light in a darkened world;
This is the fresh smell from a deep sinkhole;
This is the blue sky above grey, scorched land;
This is the tiny piece of good we must defend.

This is the newborn at the lair of death;
This is the new crown on an ugly head;
This is green grass on burning, barren sand;
This is the tiny piece of good we must defend.

This is true blood in a cask of pus;
This is true love among the swells of lust;
This is a skylark in the knacker's hands;
This is the tiny piece of good we must defend.