We are the 400 thousand sons,
making a nation on our shoulders.
We might be the lesser sons of great fathers,
but we shall walk bold under tomorrow's bright sun.
We hear them talk of society's rust while they rest,
but nobody knows,
that we'll hold the earth on our shoulders,
we can carry it all in easy strides,
singing on with no need for a livery or a flag;
We're all tomorrow has waiting for, at her door,
and we shall return to the world, more than we've ever taken,
in all.