WW2.

Forced to fight in a war where nobody is the winner
where everybody is a loser and a sinner
the string holding our lives is growing thinner and thinner
maybe soon we will figure out the reason that we are fighting
why we choose to move as a quickly as lightning
why we choose to be merciless and frightening
and we choose to not conquer all of our fears
to hide like cowards behind all of our tears
we are only but corpses alive in a uniform
it’s like that we are robots programmed – forced to conform
we are the ghosts of a war that we will never be free from
even when we are the winners or the losers
we won’t be alive anymore, no beggars – no choosers
the people might cheer for our names
but they don’t understand that it’s never the end of the games,
never.