Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh When the sun sinks in the west, die a millionpeople of the Bangladesh The story of Bangladesh is an ancient one, again made fresh, by blindmen, who carry out commands, which flow out of the laws, upon which nations stand, which say to sacrifice a people for a landBangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh When the sun sinks in the west, die a million people of the BangladeshOnce again, we stand aside, and watch the families, crucified, see a teenage mother's vacant eyes, as she watches her feeble baby try, to fight the monsoon rains, and the choleraflies, and the students, at the university, asleep at night, quite peacefully, the soldiers came, and shot them in their beds, and terror took the dawn, awakening shrieks of dread, and silent frozenforms, and pillows drenched in red Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh When the sun sinks in the west, die a million people of the BangladeshDid you read about the army officer's plea, for donor's blood, it was given willingly, by boys who took the needle in their veins, and from their bodies, every drop of blood was drained, no time tocomprehend, and there was little pain, and so the story of Bangladesh, is an ancient one, again made fresh, by all, who carry out commands, which flow out of the laws, upon whichall nations stand, which say to sacrifice, a people for the landBangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh When the sun sinks in the west, die a million people of the BangladeshWhen the sun sinks in the west, die a million people of the Bangladesh