In my youth, I dreamt to be a drummer
Of someone’s little underground band.
To be in love with a cute girl playing oboe
I dreamt, that’s how those days have passed to come.
But now I’m just a military person
Supposed to serve, to die if coin flips.
And only marching bands are one reminder
Of where my heart goes on its lonely trips.
Forgive me now, my world, I have to plead
Forgiveness for it is the only chance of seeing
How much I grew astray from the sweetest thing
That, dare I say, is not anything but living.
The sound of guns – an orchestral dismay:
I'm used to hear this dreadful music play.
Officers song
© Copyright: Захаров Данила, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124100304599
Свидетельство о публикации №124100304599
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