He has been there, sixty years ago, as he stands face to face with the gate of d**h He looks small and crumbled And he never will forget, no he never will forget And the scar on his forearm bears the ink, which intends to dehumanise He stands as a symbol, a monument, for the victims of genocide And he's tired of walking here all this way Still terrified, but he can't deny there's still a fire in his heart But he's tired, he's tired of living it all the way "This war just really lost all sense to me I just lost all perspective On what seems righteous and okay I really want to mention now My legs are tired And I don't see another way but just walk into my grave" 60 years ago, but the war drags on, our selective minds only hear the cries from the regions that provide us with wealth. Or the people in our own lives, but at the same time… Who are Rightwing skins and self-made hooligans to deny him his fate? What are world leaders but criminals? More lost life with every debate The numbers keep counting Who are we to refrain Who are to say nothing and look the other way?