In the factories where iron sings,
The hands of workers shape their dreams,
The hammerâs echo, a silent scream,
For justice in the cold machine.
On the fields where toil never ends,
The sweat of brow, the calloused hands,
The harvest reaped, yet hunger stands,
A cycle that no soul defends.
In the streets where voices rise,
The banners wave beneath the skies,
The cry for freedom never dies,
In every heart that hope defies.
Through the pages of Marx’s lore,
The dream of equity, we implore,
To break the chains, to end the war,
A world united, forevermore.