The bright beautiful rising sun
From behind the hills
Beckons on battle ready
Soldiers of new Biafra.
Balancing on the bright morning sky,
Her beautiful smiles
Beam on brand new Biafra,
Bringing a balm
For our broken freedom.
As our eyes
Are gazed skywards
O' mother Sun,
Minister to the wish
Of our mangled spirits,
That we may again
March on merchandize
Of merchants of servitude,
And vanguish our victors.
This is our supplication,
O' mother Sun,
Supplication of soldiers
Of new Biafra.