The time has come and I must face it,
The bodies have fallen,
The blood has been spilt,
Too many lost and nothing found,
Even a blow to myself in trying would be something,
A reach for a better life perhaps?
I raise myself from the dirt that I hidden in so long,
While others fight when being pushed to it,
Tien, Yamcha, Chautzoi, Piccolo,
I will do what I must,
With that I turn to our oppressor,
His eyes a light with his disgusting joy,
This is it,
No turning back.