Last evening they were in bathhouse. In the morning they wore clean underwear and parade uniform. They have drunk a glass of vodka each one and went in attack. Straight rows of officers were going with drum playing, with cigars in their mouths. Somebody was standing in position when others was killed. They laughed in the death's face. They hated filth of revolution.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
