Everyday your son fights an enemy with his weapon Saves or destroys a thousand worlds Still with a smile on his face Her son never smiles Your son's fears and anguishes leave in your presence Her sons are alone Your son can turn the horror off with one finger Her sons are the horror
Warchildren you are No future, no past Their caring mother never lets them down The best games, the best sounds, The strongest sensations are all the can get They don't need anything nor they ask Born with a gun in their hands Fed with blood Used to mayhem and murder Their mother loves them The others just ignore 'emTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
