Suddenly the door opens
But actually not so sudden
The time has come
But who knows what to do?
The red flag's still aflutter
But there's no fixed direction
The revolution still continues
The old men have still more power

Money flutters in the air
We have no ideals
Although the air is clear
We can't see any further
Although our chance has come
We don't have the guts for it
Our personalities are all rounded
Like balls under the red flag

The head suddenly comes out
It's the hope of many years
Standing tall, chests thrust out, shouting
It's a natural inheritance
Of course we understand inside
Whose descendants we are
No matter if our behavior is good or bad
Deep inside we still know we're pure

Authority fluttering in the air
Often gusts over my shoulder
Suddenly there's an idea
Don't follow others blindly
Although the body's weak
Although it can only yell
Look at the *eight to nine o'clock sun
Like balls under the red flag

My stomach is full now
My brain is clear now too
But don't say this is a great favor
It can never be repaid
We are no longer pawns in a chess game
Following lines drawn by others
We try standing up ourselves
Get moving and take a look at everything

Reality is like a stone
Spirit is like an egg
Although stones are hard
Eggs are life
Mother is still alive
Father is a flagpole
If you ask us who we are
We are balls under the red flag

* eight to nine o'clock sun is a metaphor Mao Zedong used to describe the energy and dynamism of youth.

Cui Jian: vocals, guitar
Eddie Randriamampionona: lead guitar, bass, Chinese percussion, backing vocals
Liu Yuan: saxophone, suona (Chinese oboe)
Quan You: drums, Chinese percussion