May 2008
Mother Russia how are you sleeping Middle winter cold winds blow From the trees the snowflakes drifting Swirling round like ghosts in the snow Mother Russia poetry majestic Tells the time of a great
You'll take my life but I'll take yours too You'll fire your musket but I'll run you through So when you're waiting for the next attack You'd better stand there's no turning back. The Bugle sounds an
All of his life he has dreamt of this moment Through all the blood and the work and the sweat Focused or blinkered just so single-minded Nothing could stop him when his course was set To conquer each