Song: The price of victory

The first abrasion of the first pain, offense first injections,
We rush forward, taking with him the wounds of the primary school
The black color of the lesions to genuine tears, to the sleepless hysteria.
Blood yard battles for the right to opening of new Americas.
Bruising under the eyes, cotton wool in the toes, a line of scars on the scalp,
We can only trust the nerves the wires, if in the future the Alps.
Let reproaches your mother in torn jeans and dirty sneakers,
She, alas, does not understand the price let small, but victory.