Children's hands draw bombs on a piece of paper
And a red question mark, nobody can do anything about it.
The good guys and the bad guys, the roles are assigned,
The script certainly doesn't have a happy ending ready.
The crosshairs on the screen and then a bright bang.
Only sternly made-up inklings of the real decay.
The sea beats high flames
And black clouds are gathering,
and more than usual you see
people kneeling quietly in prayer.
No war is holy,
no war is just,
In the vicious circle of weapons, people die and are punished.
No war is noble,
No war thrives on courage,
It is unimaginably cruel
And even for the so-called victors it is only good for losing.
Innocence of oil-stuffed feathers,
the world loses the battle,
until there is no longer any greed for profit
our death dealers laugh.
Vaccinated with hate in the desert sand,
the poison in the heart,
until no one is left stays alive
and only then is peace.
No war is holy,
no war is just,
In the vicious circle of weapons there is death and revenge.
No war is noble,
no war depends on courage,
it is unimaginably cruel
and too much blood lost even for the so-called victors.
Worse than a nightmare,
dead are no longer awake.
The pawns are the first to leave the field
In this type of chess.
Children's hands paint someone
who lost the war.
Brders is on the radio ,
and I'm just imagining it:
No more shed blood,
no more blind hearts.
Imagine
that brothers are finally brothers.
/>Imagine it.
No war is holy.
No war is holy,
No war is just,
In the vicious circle of weapons there is death and revenge.
No war is noble,
No war thrives on courage,
It is unimaginably cruel
Too much blood lost
No war is holy,
No war is just,< br/>In the vicious circle of weapons there is death and revenge.
No war is noble,
No war thrives on courage,
It is unimaginably cruel
Too much blood lost
No war is sacred,
No war... No war...