The perfect storm of freedom

Look at Europe's map,

Straight into her heart.

Find the city of Minsk,

And pray for it...

A long time ago,

It was so warm and nice.

Now it is too clean;

Men’s tears clean the dust.

Green leaves are on the trees,

And birds are singing songs,

Yet the light in people's souls

Is fading more and more.

The dictator pushes so hard,

But the people want to live.

They work as slaves to stay alive,

In a place where the light is dimmed.

We all believe in God,

And hope is what we have.

We wait for a sign from Him,

To fight against the hell.

This time is coming soon,

We feel the stream of warmth.

The coming phase of the moon

Will bring the perfect storm.

We’ll find a way to go,

Without blood and death,

For millions abroad

To come back home to bless.

By flooding our streets,

Along Gorky Park,

We’ll listen to the wind of change.

The wind of change is in our heart.

Адзін Беларус