To thee my country I bequeath
A world of my unspoken dreams;
The land of silent make-believe
Wherein the conquerors of schemes
That only can improve this life
Shall evermore be banned.
To thee my children I release
Thy spirit which is thine to keep
Until this land be wakened from
Its silent anaesthetic sleep;
That it nay never sleep again –
That it may never die.
To thee my brethren I request
That you will guard this fading word;
That you may place the gift of time
Upon it that it may be heard;
That everyone might understand
Iconoclastic Peace.