These broken streets and torn down buildings are reminders of those days we spent digging our own graves for a lost cause. Our shovels are the only friends we ve got, but the asphalt turns to grains of salt and stays while bullets claim our stake at life. We mark this territory with flowers and bodies and remember those who died for us. I can still see the pride in their eyes. And every poem that was written will be carved into stone, but still you stay awake: statues keep you alive Now I can feel the rain against my face again. It s all too clear, I think we are at war again. Battle against myself and the enemy is what keeps me alive and clears out the skies. But sleet and thunder never mattered at all, we still move on in line just waiting to fall. I ll sign this sincerely for records then wave goodbye. I ll see you on stage.