(Archived) Prorktevenais - Our sweet little home

There was once a place unknown,
This place was our home,
We called it Prorktevanais:
A place of scribes, makers and discovery!
We were alone,
But this was always our home.

Justice for the Proctethians,

Justice for the Proctethians,
What have they done?

Justice for the Proctethians.

There was once a place unknown,
We built out cities out of stone,
We rode our way to the future,
But all that came was slaughter.
We do not mean to start a fight,
Yet all that comes is rivalry.
We mean no harm,
On our little farm.

The pillagers and raiders,
Instead of friends and traders,
Burnt our cities to the ground,
Blood was the only ruins found,
Memories of our great nation.
Memories of our great nation.

Justice for the Proctethians,

Justice for the Proctethians,

What have they done?

Justice for the Proctethians.

They are ruled by the cruel,
They are ruled by the fool,
What is there to do,
In our little sweet old utopia,
That hardly remains no more.

They were unknown,
Waving banners and flags.
We meant no harm,
But yet they burnt our farm.
Through Plodoon and the Procteh land,
Celroskun a-a-and,
Zywogji and Artregon,
Lands of Loscon,
Jos-Saupig and o’ sweet Doshtoocien.

Our little Haven,
Our little Utopia,
Our little Haven,
Our little Prorktevanais,

There was once a place unknown,
This place was our home,
We called it Prorktevanais:
A place of scribes, makers and discovery!
We were alone,
But this was always our home.

They were unknown,
They destroyed our cities of stone
We meant no harm,
But yet they burnt our farm.

Justice for the Proctethians,

Justice for the Proctethians,

What have they done?

Justice for the Proctethians.

Oh, our old friend Wuwik,
Began it all,
A haven for us all,
Our little Prorktevanais
Burnt by those from Hell.

We follow the word of Wuwik,
We follow the floof of the Procteh,
This was our haven, out little safe place.

And we wept into the seas,
Betrayed by tyranny.
Our civilisation, and culture,
Ruined by this torture.

We once had a language like no other,
A culture with one other,
But then came the destroyers,
To every piece of Prorktevanais.

Justice for the Proctethians,

Justice for the Proctethians,

What have they done?

Justice for the Proctethians.

Justice for the Proctethians,

Justice for the Proctethians,

What have they done?

Justice for the Proctethians.

There was once a place unknown,
This place was our home,
We called it Prorktevanais:
A place of scribes, makers and discovery!
We were alone,
But this was always our home.

Our little Haven,
Our little Utopia,
Our little Haven,
Our little Home,
We call it now,
Oh sweet little Proctethia.

Justice for the Proctethians,

Justice for the Proctethians,

What have they done?

Justice for the Proctethians.

There is a place known,
This place was our home,
We called it Prorktevanais:
A place of scribes, makers and discovery!
We are not alone,
But is this still our home?