They collected the cripples, wounded, and maimed And they shipped us back home to Kiev. The legless, the armless, the blind, and insane Those proud wounded heroes of Donbas. And as our plane landed at the airport I looked at the place where me legs used to be And thank Christ that no one would see me crawl To grieve and to mourn and to pity. And the band played Waltzing Matilda As they carried us down the gangway But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared And they turned all their faces away.
