This is how we saw Milosevic in Belgrade in 1994. The lyrics came from a rockband called Motorhead. It shows how young people, already know for a long time, know they must survive him or run and do not come back anymore.

I am the one, Orgasmatron, the outstretched grasping hand. My image is of my agony, my servants rape the land. Obsequinous and arrogant, clandestine in vain. Two thousend years of misery, of torture in my name. Hypocrasy made paramount, paranoya the law. My name is called religion, sadistic, sacred whore.

I twist the truth, I rule the world, my crown is called deceit. I am the emperer of lies, you grovel at my feet. I rob you and I sloughter you, your downfall is my gain. Ans still you play the sycophant and revel in your pain. And all my promises are lies, all my love is hate. I am the politician, and I decide your fate.

I march before a martyred world, an army for the fight. I speak of great heroic days, of victory and might. I hold a banner drenched in blood, I urge you to be brave. I lead you to your destiny, I lead you to your grave. Your bones will build my paleces, your eyes will stud my crown. For I am Mars, the god of war, and I will cut you down.