I took to the streets & said I’m not coming back
& I wrote with my blood on every street
We made all those who hadn’t before hear us
& we destroyed all of the obstacles

Our dreams were our weapon
& we know what tomorrow holds for us
for long we have waited
searching, trying to find our place

In every street in my country

The voice of freedom is calling

In every street in my country

The voice of freedom is calling

We raised our head into the sky
& our hunger no longer concerned us
All that matters is our right
& to write our history with our blood

If you were one of us
stop babbling & telling us
to just walk away from our dream
& stop saying the word “I”

In every street in my country

The voice of freedom is calling

In every street in my country

The voice of freedom is calling

[Parts of the monologue at the end are in very colloquial Egyptian, so the translation may not be 100% accurate, but correctly conveys the general idea]:

Tanned Egyptian hands, stretching across the ether
A creative youth has risen, and turned our Fall into Spring,
& achieved the miracle, & woke up the dead with hope
Kill me if you wish, my killing will not bring back your old country
I write with my blood a new life for my homeland
My blood breaths life into the ground, turning it green
& I smile for my happiness, even through the sadness

In every street in my country

The voice of freedom is calling

In every street in my country

The voice of freedom is calling