The time has come and I must face it,

The bodies have fallen,

The blood has been spilt,

Too many lost and nothing found,

Nothing gained,

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,

My oppressor,

His eyes a light with his disgusting joy,

This is it,

No turning back.