Bang Bang Ania Dąbrowska

I was five and he was six. We rode on horses made on sticks. He wore black and I wore white. He would always win the fight. Bang bang he shot me down. Bang bang I hit the ground. Bang bang that awful sound. Bang bang my baby shot me down. Seasons came and change the time. When I grew up I called him mine. He would always laugh and say: Remember when we use to play Bang bang I shot you down. Bang bang you hit the ground. Bang bang that awful sound. Bang bang I used to shoot you down. Mus