February 20... 1943
Siberia, prison camp
our path there was long
but after the epic battle
we were made to march
we had no food to survive
in permanent winter cold
we had no warm blankets
only our tyrannical leaders
for whom labor is endless
it has become a joke to say
that we are somehow alive
we are ghosts, paper thin
for the great mother country
we killed peasants, soldiers
we killed gypsies and Jews
but for what purpose, cost
by words we did not transform
we did not become supermen
After Stalingrad, we knew
The War was over but for
all of the vile killing and loss
And a reckoning was to begin
In which the Nazis will fall
And Germany may be reborn
