If my tears could make a laurel wreath of peace
For you to wear upon your troubled head
Giving victory to peace instead of war
If my breath could make a gale of love
Blowing doves of peace inside Kremlin’s walls
Defying hate and Lenin’s disgusted grimace
Ending forever your fear of love
If my eyes would let you see the truth 
Freeing Russians from your mendacious misrule
Where you portray genocide as God’s cause
Where in Ukraine you wage your holy war
While at your devil’s table you gorge 
On rape, murder and pillage and smile at the feast
And what will history make of you?
Will your Stalinist madness be excused 
By a malignant melanoma of hate in your head?

No, you shall not escape, even in defeat
You will always be known as evil beyond belief
Not in Hitler’s camps but in a land once at peace 
Now reduced to ruin for your fantasy’s sake
Your war is lost all you’ve won is contempt.