The world is burning,
bombs pierce the earth and the heartbeat slowly stops.
Smoke masks the day,
night hides,
and destruction is its fate.
Yes, of her, of the place where man plants the flower of death,
war.
The flower of death
The world is burning,
bombs pierce the earth and the heartbeat slowly stops.
Smoke masks the day,
night hides,
and destruction is its fate.
Yes, of her, of the place where man plants the flower of death,
war.