[01:23.35]Shine, shine, the light of good works shine
[01:33.90]The watch before the city gates depicted in their prime
[01:43.45]That golden light all grimy now
[01:49.04]Three hundred years have passed
[01:51.36]The worthy Captain and his squad of troopers standing fast
[02:06.15]The artist knew their faces well
[02:08.19]The husbands of his lady friends
[02:10.22]His creditors and councillors
[02:12.27]In armour bright, the merchant men
[02:14.30]Official moments of the guild
[02:16.53]In poses keen from bygone days
[02:18.48]The city fathers frozen there
[02:20.32]Upon the canvas dark with age
[02:30.49]The smell of paint, a flask of wine
[02:32.85]And turn those faces all to me
[02:34.65]The blunderbuss and halberd-shaft
[02:36.81]And Dutch respectability
[02:38.71]They make their entrance one by one
[02:40.85]Defenders of that way of life
[02:42.84]The redbrick home, the bourgeoisie
[02:44.88]Guitar lessons for the wife
[03:34.98]So many years we suffered here
[03:37.16]Our country racked with Spanish wars
[03:39.42]Now comes a chance to find ourselves
[03:41.37]And quiet reigns behind our doors
[03:43.26]We think about posterity again
[04:17.82]And so the pride of little men
[04:22.13]The burghers good and true
[04:24.52]Still living through the painter's hands
[04:27.04]Request you all to understand

Shine, shine, the light of good works shine
The watch before the city gates depicted in their prime
That golden light all grimy now
Three hundred years have passed
The worthy Captain and his squad of troopers standing fast
The artist knew their faces well
The husbands of his lady friends
His creditors and councillors
In armour bright, the merchant men
Official moments of the guild
In poses keen from bygone days
The city fathers frozen there
Upon the canvas dark with age
The smell of paint, a flask of wine
And turn those faces all to me
The blunderbuss and halberd-shaft
And Dutch respectability
They make their entrance one by one
Defenders of that way of life
The redbrick home, the bourgeoisie
Guitar lessons for the wife
So many years we suffered here
Our country racked with Spanish wars
Now comes a chance to find ourselves
And quiet reigns behind our doors
We think about posterity again
And so the pride of little men
The burghers good and true
Still living through the painter's hands
Request you all to understand