Ten thousand windows
Glancing through open skies,
tragedies of angels
unfold behind the mist.
Ten thousand people,
with ten thousand guns,
march aimlessly
towards
death.
Bridges burn,
water turns sour,
poisoned by corpses
of strangers.
Ten thousand windows,
they might as well be one million!
What difference does ignorance make?
Let's serve the ruler!
Glancing through open skies,
one can read books of lives
of people who fought themselves
to fight their peer.
Now, there they lie,
dead in the mist,
these puppets of rulers
protecting ...
You have nothing to protect but thyself,
soldier!
But here, I will design you a foe.