They sold out our dreams
Judas’ sons,
pure gold thrown into mud.
Waking up was so beautiful, maybe too late,
and paid for with innocent blood.

Hey, you tired land, exhausted!
Is there anyone left to die for you?
They sold out our dreams
Judas’ sons,
pure gold they threw into mud.
In front of someone else’s doors again we beg for justice,
a heavy cross we are carrying now.

Hey, you tired land, exhausted!
Is there anyone left to die for you?
King Dmitar Zvonimir,
through the mountains cries are echoing,
“Ooooo”

In dungeon are your soldiers!
Traitors, let them find no peace,
you killed King Zvonimir,
you betrayed our great men,
and our sons given by mothers.
Yesterday I saw the picture of the people,
throwing flowers upon heroes,
tomorrow already victors are judged,
sold out for Judas’ coins.
King Dmitar Zvonimir,
through the mountains cries are echoing,
“Ooooo”
In dungeons are your soldiers!

King Dmitar Zvonimir,
through the mountains cries are echoing,
(Into the battle! Into the battle! For one’s people!)
“Ooooo”
In dungeon are your soldiers!
In dungeon are your soldiers!