Grandpa, I have seen a long black snake across our land
With a huge corde on it
Pakjin Pakjin Pakjin
Is the voice of sound it makes
Its breathe is smoke and fire
I don’t know where it comes from nor where it goes
it made a halt
And i saw
Out from it came a man with sinister looks
His one hand was holding a loaded machine gun
With fingers at the trigger
While the other using to snuff up a tobacco.
He wore a metal over with heavy boots
And head covered under a broad-rimmed black hat
Standing like a scout on a parade.
I lingered before he waved to the corde
That responded with a loud noise, poooh
Gawking at it as it disappeared.
I think it is war
They want to take up our land
Lets mend our bows
Lets sharpen our arrows and make them ready!