I ain’t superior than my country That’s not my intention Yet eternally its son I shall be Lie is like fire Devastating mercilessly On newspapers news On the cover of mags Hanged with my own hair Not to dirty their hands Summary condemnation Kafka’s worst process I ain’t the master of truth Neither are you We don’t even belong to us I claim mercy for accusing me I ain’t superior than my country That’s not my intention Yet eternally its son I shall be