Sometimes it seems to me that soldiers While fighting on the battlefields did not die No longer they lie under the cold ground But are white storks flying free across the sky They're still there from wars long ago forgotten Still flying there I hear their mournful cries Is taht why I'm often feeling so sad And silent while looking at the skies?
Forever flying flying the tired skein Through the fog we make their weary way And there whithin the wedge a small space It may be a place for me one day And amongst the other storks you'll see me sometimes Gliding like a ghost you'll hear the sound Of me calling like a bird under the grey clouds To all of you I left upon the ground
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