Over skies of blue there is beautiful strand
It's spreading for you trying to make a stand
It gets closer and closer, closer to you
It tears the skies to make uniform stew
Can't hear it, can't see it - too struck by the ground
Clenching the teeth while counting the rounds
You fight for your freedom, you never waged war.
Still suddenly met the old bitch in the doors…
Jackpot of hurt! You fall on the floor
Trying to reach shabby rifle of yours.
Righteous, entitled, licensed to fight…
…as if it helped to gather your might…
