Anonymous E-mail: Contact Information: | The Song of the Parabelum The floor is given to our friend the pistol, The right to speak to our friend the sub-machine gun. On behalf of our brothers slaughtered in the Ghetto. Who did not reach their land. On behalf of a wandering ship of illegals, Which has not reached its port. On behalf of gallows and prisons, On behalf of my land which was stolen. The floor is given to our friend the pistol, The right to speak to our friend the sub-machine gun. | |||