June
Friday 7 March 2008 photo 2/8
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Text till projektarbetet. Tyck till. The bombs are falling all around, And I still can not hear a sound. Fireballs crashing in the sand, Each of them proud with a gun in their hand. I see all the young men fighting for their lives Not for their country but for their children and wives I feel the bullet enter trough my back, Everything is fading and I’m loosing track. All I can see is your lovely face and your smiling lips, Knowing I’ll never again hold my arms around your hips. All is now slowly fading away, And I wish I could be close to you just one more day. I’m not sorry for never coming home to you, I’m so sorry for telling you I’d do.
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