Short boots, shotgun over his shoulder,
How many roads were not sleeping at night,
For blood and conflagration you can not answer,
After all, you're just a mercenary in a green beret.
Well, what are you, man, do not press the trigger,
After all, in this game you are a puppet,
Said & quot; right & quot ;: shoot right
But who gave you on the moral right?
You buy, you sell,
Bought in Laos, sold in Israel
Burning in the dark black face,
Laos and Vietnam are still your dreams ...
Well, what are you, man, do not press the trigger,
After all, in this game you are a puppet,
Said & quot; right & quot ;: shoot right
But who gave you on the moral right?
Well, what are you, man, do not press the trigger,
After all, in this game you are a puppet,
The whole world is already done for you, Tyre,
And you're the one standing in front of the world!
