18

Broken bodies in the lane,
to step over it's insane.

A strange brew from another age,
to give us more courage.

Where's your friend, your enemy ?
Bloods color in this butchery is the same.

An hole made by a falling bomb 
is an hidding place, a bed, a tomb.
It's the same.

I was 18 in sixteen,
It's a shame.
It's a shame.