Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh When the sun sinks in the west, die a million people of the Bangladesh The story of Bangladesh, is an ancient one, again made fresh, by blind men, who carry out commands, which flow out of the laws, upon which nations stand, which say to sacrifice, a people for a land Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh When the sun sinks in the west, die a million people of the Bangladesh Once 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 cholera flies 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 frozen forms, in pillows drenched in red Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh When the sun sinks in the west, die a million people of the Bangladesh Did 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 to comprehend, 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 which nations stand, which say to sacrifice, a people for the land Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, Bangladesh, when the sun sinks in the west, die a million people of the Bangladesh