The day I run out of paper,
Isn't the moment I drop my pen,
The day I run out of ink,
Is the day I make my speech,
these words, are just the rhythm of my voice,
read them, and you'll feel rejoiced,
I will devote my life to change,
until the world itself is reformed,
The day I run out of paper,
Isn't the moment I drop the ink,
It's the day I use my hand,
to make my speech,
So the world can hear the rhythm of my voice.
