How many songs are there yet [bad word] 
Tell me, cuckoo, and sing…
Where am I to live, where am I to die?
Lying on the ground, or flying like a star in the sky?
Flying

Sunshine [bad word] look at me
My hand has now turned into a fist
If there’s a way out, then show it to me
Like this…

Who will tread upon these lonely steps again?
Who is strong and brave? Who will pay the price in battle
With their lives?
Very few remain in our memory,
With a sound mind, and a strong hand in the ranks
Alive

Where have you gone now, my freedom, where are you?
Who’s the lucky one meeting you again this morning,
Tell me…
It's good with you around, but it's bad without
And I put my head and shoulders underneath the whip
You see