Golden reminds me of your beautiful hair
Behind his desk,he sits watching the war from afar,he gives orders too, from afar, grins from afar
Life is an inescapable game. How can you write its rules?
You sit behind your desk, you criminal,
You tear out a child out of his mother’s arms,
You carry millions of hearts.
Have you ever seen a heart Mr. Criminal?
You sit behind your desk and watch. What do you observe Mr. criminal, blood?
Another child dies. You count the dead and grin
Where are your children Mr. Criminal?
I can hear them roar in the pubs
O filthy war, are you not satisfied yet?
And you, dirty game,
Can’t you smell death more then “humans” do?
All love ❤ Ukraine