My bro
whos O,
I.
Who is o Lord.
Drop out.
foreign
The blade of the rock flies in the sky,
It flies in the direction of my day's end,
And in that line there is a small gap.
The day will
come when the crane will stand,
I will swim in the same
gray fog,
And from under the sky,
on my face
I will lie down,
I will leave all of you on the ground.
I will not fall for the threat that the soldiers Will not come from
the bloody fields,
And in our land they plowed once,
And turned into white cranes.