Im Gegensatz zu Ost und West sind Nord und Süd stinknormale Himmelsrichtungen.
Man muss sich kurz fassen. Lange Texte liest doch keiner mehr.
Im Gegensatz zu Ost und West sind Nord und Süd stinknormale Himmelsrichtungen.
Man muss sich kurz fassen. Lange Texte liest doch keiner mehr.
These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Someday you’ll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you’ll no longer burn to be
Brothers in arms
Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I’ve witnessed your suffering
As the battle raged high
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms
There’s so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones
Now the sun’s gone to hell and
The moon’s riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it’s written in the starlight
And every line in your palm
We’re fools to make war
On our brothers in arms