Red leaves fall on the ground.
 Sky's in the dress made from grey clouds.
 Rain beats town to deep pools.
 Now there is war. There no rules.
  
 Now it is time of black blood.
 Now many Towners' lives're cut.
 Now... Is there "now" in this town
 With clouds as grey as the ground?
  
 All houses and trees are burnt...
 Yesterday - many, tomorrow - alone.
 What can be the end of this history?
 Only to die. It is not a mystery