Burgurundi once stood tall and proud
A rising fire, a beating crowd
Strong hands built these roads and stone
A mighty land that stood alone

Kings had wisdom, people had pride
Rivers fed the land far and wide
Songs of power filled the air
We knew who we were, we were aware

Now they say don’t speak of Burgurundi great
Only call it poor, defeated, late
They erased our past, they killed the dream
A hopeless land, or so it seems
Don’t say Burgurundi was strong or free
Only misery is what they want to see

They came with flags and foreign tongues
With loaded guns and poisoned lungs
They took the gold, they broke the spine
Then blamed the land for their design

They rewrote history line by line
Turned stolen wealth into “their shine”
And every ruin that they made
They said was our own mistake

Now they say don’t speak of Burgurundi great
Only call it poor, defeated, late
They erased our past, they killed the dream
A hopeless land, or so it seems
Don’t say Burgurundi was strong or free
Only misery is what they want to see

If you forget what you once were
You’ll accept chains forevermore
So they bury truth and light the lies
So no one dares to rise

But whispers live in blood and bone
Stories seeds they couldn’t own
The past still breathes beneath the dirt
A stolen crown, a wounded earth

They say don’t speak of Burgurundi great
Only call it poor, defeated, late
But truth survives, though torn and scarred
They fear the memory — that’s why it’s barred
You can burn the books, deny the land
But greatness waits to rise again