Through the streets runs the army of losers
The great officer beside the little cashier
The suits as uniforms determine the hierarchy
The ends stands in front of the door, until the last second they fight
The enemy is time
Generation through generation bashes the time
It pulls with gruesomeness - Time
The next ones wait - time
It looks miserable
How everyone fights
And runs to the bus
Knows no calm
And year through year gives
Until he loses