Slow shock, gutters with water
Concrete walls, damp earth
Iron windows, electric light
Splashing sound, scorching asphalt
But the world was beautiful, like snivel on a wall
And the city was fine, like a cross on a back
And the day was happy, like a blind gut
But he saw the sun
Plastic smoke, burnt stench
Barbed wire into the kilometric distance
Scraps of tires, wheels and slag
Blind trenches, dry grass
Watch tower, broken glass
Brick ranks, the crematorium is fuming
Tincans, paper scraps
Automatic gun, uniform and gas mask.