When the night comes to an end, and the sun rises,
Do you know, Mother, what we see before our eyes?
Trees all around, tall yet scorched at the trunk.
Big houses all around, yet they are ruined and faded in color.
I am walking on ruins, Mother,
And believe me, there is no pear here, nor a flower.
We are no heroes, for what we do is dirty work.
The sun will set, and the darkness will fall.
And then we sleep, wearing our uniforms in bed.
Yes, Mother, it's important. It's hard, and it's terrible.
I swear it's hard, but I'm staying.
The ground is gray and the horizon is black,
And it's as if the blue sky pauses, and waits,
And doesn't touch, doesn't touch the black horizon,
There's a space between them, with nothing to do with everything else.
And it's so hard, but I'm staying.
There's a barbed wire here, and a drawn sword after it.
Mom, Dad, and everyone else.
We are no heroes, for what we do is dirty work.
The sun will set, and the darkness will fall.
And then we sleep, wearing our uniforms in bed.
Yes, Mother, it's important. It's hard, and it's terrible.
When the night comes to an end, and the sun rises,
Do you know, Mother, what we see before our eyes?