The ball painted khaki

Had no color, oh, I was perfectly spotless,
I was limpid, became just totally white,
Seems like someone just chalked me up for his winter delight.

Could be white then, at least I could remain spotless,
Even ice-cold, but with the gaze of fire,
But somebody just painted me black for his warlike desire.

I see the paint, and there’s no haven,
I feel the paint, the paint is too close,
I don’t want to be up to those
Who are painting the heaven.

I see the song from away but I hear just
March! March! Right! Left!
March! March! Left! Right!
The most frihghtning thing in the world
Is a crowd painted khaki.

Could be black one, got even used to be devil
But mister Main One who really deems he's lucky
Gave the order to attack the summer and shoved me into the khaki.

I see the smoke, and there’s no haven,
I feel the smoke, the hell is about to come,
I don’t want to be up to scums
Who are burning the heaven.

I see the song from away but I hear just
March! March! Right! Left!
March! March! Left! Right!
I have never seen anything worse
Than the ball painted khaki.