Maybe I’ll see tomorrow,
Or prolly it’ll come when I’m gone,
I pray that you don’t roast in sorrow,
Because I ‘ll be the crow crowing every dawn.
If I’ll not see tomorrow,
Know that I’m the spark sparkling bright in the dark,
Lighting the way for you and keeping away the throe,
If I’ll be in train of seeing tomorrow, know that I’ve not been executed but on my way to Denmark.
So if tomorrow comes and I’m not dead, know that I’m in Denmark juggling this words,
Just to express the pain of our desperation,
Dancing to the tune of absurdity of rhythms you’ve never heard,
Know that I’m in Denmark marking the historical days of our insurrection.