Rootsfiere

{spoken intro over distant hand-drum}

Yeah… They said the ashes mean it’s over,

But ashes only prove there was fire.

Port-au-Prince, can you hear me?

This one for the children dancing in the dust,

The grandmothers praying in candlelight,

And every soul that still believes tomorrow got our name written on

it.

I hear the mountains singing through the midnight rain,

Broken roads don’t ever mean a broken name.

They tried to write our story with a thousand chains,

But roots run deeper when they’re growing through the pain.

Mama said, “Son, don’t forget where you belong,” Even when the lights

go out, we still sing songs.

You can burn a garden down a hundred different ways,

Still the flowers find the sun in better days.

They don’t know the tears that built these city streets,

Or how we learned to turn our losses into beats.

From the rubble comes a rhythm they can’t steal,

We survived things that would break a nation made of steel.

Oh-oh-oh… Tell the world we’re still breathing.

Oh-oh-oh…

We were born for believing.

{tension building drum roll} Port-au-Prince gon’ rise again.

From the shadows, from the wind.

Cut one branch, another grows,

That’s the way our river flows.

We don’t bend—we become gold.

Through the fire, through the cold.

You can bury us beneath the stone,

But our roots are stronger than the throne.

Port-au-Prince gon’ rise again.

My ancestors are dancing in the moonlight flames,

Freedom ain’t a gift when you done paid in pain.

They built their empires standing on our backs,

Now they wonder why we always make it back.

Every scar’s another chapter in the song,

We’ve been fighting for forever,

standing strong. Little boys kicking soccer balls through broken gates,

Dreaming bigger than the borders of their fate.

Little girls got kingdoms hidden in their eyes,

Drawing futures on the clouds across the skies.

They can’t bankrupt what lives inside a people’s soul,

Can’t silence drums that generations still control.

{drums drop

out} Raise your flags high in the pouring rain.

Every prayer becomes a hurricane.

We ain’t victims—we are history’s flame.

Say our name. Haiti.

Say it louder. Haiti.

{heavy tom roll} The revolution never left us—it just learned patience.

Port-au-Prince gon’ rise again.

Watch the sun come breaking in.

Tell the world we won’t pretend—

This ain’t where our story ends.

From the soil that freedom chose,

Through the cracks the future grows.

Kings may fall and empires rust,

But nations built on courage never turn to dust.

Port-au-Prince gon’ rise again.

When they ask what Haiti is—

Don’t tell ’em about the ruins.

Tell ’em about the roots.

Because roots don’t die.

They wait.

And when the rain finally comes,

They rise.

{fading

rain sounds and solo hand-drum}