I have no cannons that roar, but I have faith in God and love. And I surrender you to no one else, my mother, Bosnia, my love.

The mercy of God and the door of my house, like a light at the end of my journey.

Freedom will come
When I'm gone I'll be everywhere: In a warm breeze from the Bosna
In the rippling and trickling river
In the smile of the child
In the blue skies of Bosnia

And when you smell those sweet fragrance of flowers
It's the perfume of my soul

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Eternally ready to fight the radical-genocidal Serb currents. Love, democracy and peace will be prosporous in my garden one day. Freedom will come.

Uncovering the vile and chauvinistic nature of a significant part of the Serbian culture.