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The Internationale
Arise, ye prisoners of starvation! Arise, ye wretched of the earth! For justice thunders condemnation, A better world's in birth.
No more, tradition's chains shall bind us, Arise ye slaves, no more in thrall. The earth shall rise on new foundations, We are not nothing; we are all.
'Tis the final conflict, Let us stand in our place. The international working class Shall be the human race!
'Tis the final conflict, Let us stand in our place. The international working class Shall be the human race!
We'll have no condescending saviors To rule us from a judgment hall. We workers ask not for their favors, We must consult for all.
To make the thief disgorge his booty, To free the spirit from the cell, We must ourselves decide our duty, We must decide and do it well!
'This the final conflict, Let us stand in our place!. The international working class Shall be the human race!
'Tis the final conflict, Let us stand in our place. The international working class Shall be the human race!
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