When her son fought as a soldier, the Nazis shot him down
So she took up a weapon, to make his grave sacred ground
By a choice enter the fight, making death her profession
As a partisan, a leader of a tribe, silent when they attacked
To make the Nazis pay, she had become the leader of a pack
By the blood she'd shed, rid the land of evil and oppression
"Life is beautiful. Let the future generations cleanse it of all evil,
oppression and violence, and enjoy it to the full.” Leon Trotsky
