[Severe Dementia - Epitaph Of Plassey]

Nawab of the throne of Bengal
Martyr of the last sunrise
Great One, Hoard Us
Listen to our grievance
(They) assemble under the sanctuary of Fort Williams
Slaughter the trade rights
The cursed horse of sons of bitches

They defiled our monuments and graves
Their greed of treasure
Narayan Singh, dismissed by the gov-fuck-er-nor
Roger Drake Will fall to his knees dead
O Siraj

(They) blacken the sun with fierce winds
The fake shroud they took
The trust they embittered
In sanguinary...

O Nawab, they are compelled to obey you
They poured the hatred onto us
They took our existence, They took our delight
They ruined our heroes and sent under the ground!

Gash his throat, splatter his blood
Surround the factory of Kashimbazar
March upon Calcutta
The Credence of Fort Williams
The conquerors are beneath his feet
Gash their throats with weapons of rusted iron
A Robert Clive, flies from Fort St. George
Pollutes the minarets of the mosque

Manifesto of War, compelled by the conquerors
The signing of the Alinagar treaty
The Bengal Regiment
Each standing in a niche in the battle ground

How glorious it would be for the Firingi...
To have a Nawab devoted to them!