A couple of pegeons.
One is hurt,
the other is crying.
For it's lover ,
sheds a tear,
because it's dying.

The blood paints the sky,
to remind us who we are:
so conceited,so impured!

But we won't see,
though it's so clear.
The signs on the wall of life,
can't just dissapear,
they never will!

Look,what we've done,
disaster.
The master of sorrow has won,
the battle.

Once and again,we've been told,
to stop it,before it's too late.
But we are numb.
You will sleep in a bed of sand,
locked in your tomb!

Please,stop!
I don't need it,
no more.
I don't want
the war anymore!
your war...