Some say that pens are more dangerous than guns,
Words are more harmful than bullets.
If men of honour aren’t our kind,
Better to go home, shut the doors,
Hope for a saviour and fight no more.

Some say that war is preferable to peace,
Death is more honourable than defeat.
If theatre of war isn’t our kind,
Better to back off, close the gates,
Hope for peace and strike no more.

Bullets in our left leg won’t stop us walking.
We keep walking this dark path together.
We are on our way to victory.
Our bond is fertilised by blood.
Our fight has just begun.

Bullets in our left chest won’t stop us climbing,
We keep climbing upward on our miseries.
We are on our way to victory.
Our glory is secured by death.
Our fight will never end.

Some say that love is more poisonous than hatred,
Pretty is more deceitful than ugly.
If women of fate aren’t our kind,
Better to go to bed, close the eyes,
Hope for a nice dream and justify no more.

Some say that a few is more than many,
Soft is more powerful than hard.
If the will of heaven isn’t our kind,
Better to end the show, bring down the curtain,
Hope for a miracle and pray no more.

Our glory is secured by death.
Our bond is fertilised by blood.
Our fight has just begun.
Our fight will never end.
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THE END