for faile: a translation:
Mister President, Goodnight.
Sleep well in your nice White house.
Don’t think too much about all the distant shores
Where your boys are, lonely, far from home.
Don’t think about the 46 dead,
That mistake on the last bombardment.
And don’t forget the 4th of the 10 commands
Which you’ll know as a good christian.
Don’t think about all the frontline soldiers
Dying lonely in the far tropicalnight.
Let the soft pascifists talk,
Mister president, sleep tight.
Dream about victory and glory,
Dream about your nice peace idealism
Which has never been achieved by bloody killings,
Dream that you’ll obtain it this time.
Don’t think about all those people leaving,
how many women and children that have been murdered.
Dream that you’ll be pulling the longest end (??)
And don’t believe a word of all the resitanec.
Bayonets with bloody hilts
are standing guard far away, awaiting your command
for the glory and honour of the free West.
Mister president, sleept tight.
Don’t be too scared when in your dreams
you’ll see all the innocent victims
that have died in combat
and who are asking you how long this will go on.
You’ll know by now
that there are people sick of all this violence
who won’t forget the blood and misery
and for whom a human life still counts.
Don’t dream too much about all these dead,
have some sweet dreams about victory and power.
Don’t think about all these peace wishes,
Mister president, goodnight.
