(Brock)
Lonely figures waiting, Shadows on a hill,
Looking into valleys where everything is still.
Only death is lurking, The creeping sickness waits
So who's gonna win the war, Who's gonna win the war.
Radiation-Wasteland in the setting-sun
Dust clouds they are rising to obliterate the guns.
Already weeds are writing their scriptures in the sand,
So who's gonna win the war, Who's gonna win the war.
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