Snow is white ice is grey

On the broken with fissures soil

Like a patchwork quilt lies on it

City rounded by road's coil

And above there're running clouds

Which are hiding the light of sky

And above there's yellow smoke

City has grown old by

Dm Am
Two thousand years under lights of the star which we call Sun

And two thousand years war goes on
No one knows what is the wage / OR: No one knows because of what
The war is the business of youth
The cure against the old age / OR: The medicine against growing old
Here we can see the red blood
After hour it absorbs into ground
After two there're flowers and grass
After three it's rebirthing at once
And is caressed and warmed by the rays of the star which we call Sun

And we know it will continue for years
That the man who is loved by fate
Lives according to other laws
And the date of his death won't be late
He can't remember the words YES and NO
He remembers neither ranks nor names
He can reach the far-away stars
Not concerning it to be a dream
And to fall down dead-burnt by heat of the star which we call Sun

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