While things are getting blurry
I can sing, in a hoarse voice
To protest the unjustice virus
Picking me for the dual
Like the aura of a working building
All are healthy, nothing is sick
Someone would turns on the air-condition
To reveal the cold hidden truth
No one sleeps, no one goes home
Someone is coughing, I can't hear it clearly
And I am with my eyes wide shut
For we are all warrior, no worries