White snow, grey ice
On the mud cracks of the ground decay
Like a quilt is the city upon it
Stuck in the rope of the freeway
Empty clouds all over the town
Overshadowing the light from the sky
And the yellow smoke is coming down
On the town that’s two thousand years high
That went on under the light of the star
Called the Sunshine
Two thousand years - high at war
The war without any reason or the theme
The war is the business of the young -
The ultimate cure of saggy skin
Deep red, deep red blood
Is simply the soil in an hour
In two hours it has grass and flowers
In three hours - bears fruit of the glory and the power
And it’s warmed up with the tender rays of the star
Called the Sunshine
And forever since when it had begun
The cruel Fate loves the one who lives
By the law that never forgives -
The one who will die young
He has none of simply ”yes” or simply ”no”
He does not keep track of the ranks
He can easily reach for the stars
He will do it for a simple “Thanks!”
And is destined to fall down burnt by the star called the Sunshine