O what a life they lead,

They have all that they need.

A world of order, their range knows no border,

they fly, high, so high.

From Syria to Siberia, wet and wasteland to the Mirage of desert sand,

they’ve seen the mighty ocean and the unwavering Earth and land.

They don’t need an excuse nor a reason to enjoy every season,

they care, they dare and touch those skies where money can’t fare.

And when they kill, it’s purely nature’s will,

no passport nor visa, no attacks nor gun,

they’ve lived, they’ve flown, so what if all alone,

those little big things, that have wings.