Something is crawling inside my skin,
giving me a hard feelings about you.
The city is getting almost cleaned,
when that man can’t get the view,
of a statue.
I think that statue pretends to be still,
I don’t know whether it has some sort of
significance or not?
But it brings the memory of the battle,
which was fought,
during the winter in Stalingrad.
It feels like those six children,
were dancing in joy.
When there were blood everywhere,
they were still dancing,
and they gave damn about those,
those six children came and visited me,
in my dream.
I didn’t know how to greet them,
then I saw,
a show was going on my TV screen,
and they were preparing for the mayhem,
with the courage and confidence.
Which were merely unbeaten.
They are still waiting for the change,
the change which is a dream ,
of the stream that can flow over the capitalism’s