On the rocks of Nandagad Rayanna stood tall, He stole the sleep of Landlords and the Company.
No forts, no flag, No cannons, no crown on his head, The forest was his kingdom, The night his armour.
He moved from hill to hill, from village to village. From the tears of peasants He lit the fire of war. He did not fight to sit on a throne, but for the furrows of the field.
