There are roots in this land;
The cradle of man,
The pride of lions,
The circle of life.
There are a thousand stories
and a thousand dreams
for those with eyes to see,
and carve the signs in rock.
There are roots in this land;
Of the cry of the hunter,
Of the cry of the hunted,
Of the turn of the circle.
There are a thousand journeys
and a thousand songs
for those with voice to sing.
There are roots in this land;
Of chain upon the wrists,
Of chain upon the ankles,
Of rope around the neck.
There are a thousand sorrows
and a thousand stones
for those with hearts to remember.
There are roots in this land;
The wild, and the true.
The ones that rise, though beaten.
The King arising within.
There are a thousand reflections
and a thousand waters
for those with faces to gaze.
There are roots in this land
and names upon stones,
foreign stones, for stolen sons.
There are a thousand carvings
and a thousand tombs
for those with souls to free.
There are roots in this land;
The strength of the lion,
The speed of gazelle,
The chase, and the chaser,
and the one who escapes.
See the King arising
from the mud and the rain.
See the King arising
from the lash and chain.
Know the roots burn deep.
You are more than you’ve become.
Remember who you are.
Know he lives in you!