We have a war, comrade. We do!.

We have a war.

In the back yard, forefront.

We have a war.

Behind that line, from where begins the woods.

All the roads have drowned, unwalked and illegally clean.

The snow volcano keeps its own work schedule,

alongside with those cursing and begging.

Enough, enough, enough already.

We have a war.

Heavy pellets fall into our souls.

We have a war.

From the battlefield all those bones brake,

in those elbowdeep craters.