Airing from Kolyma (2018)

REVOLUTIONARY ROAD

Early one morning we opened my door, and did something I never dared to before. We never looked back and never returned – my life was a Rubicon bridge that I burned.

We smoked a fag and went to my car, saw in the mirror the death of a star. Minute by minute my life ceased to be, and on the freeway there was only me.

And I kissed your eyelids, caressed your white skin, said “this is where our new lives begin: ME NE FREGO!”

I drove to the sea where we saw the big blue, under the red sun shimmering through clouds so fragile they weren’t almost there, dancing like spirits with silver-white hair.

I took off my clothes and stood there alone, watched the blue waves swallow my clones, that worked so hard to hide my old fear, that made me a ghost no one could come near.

And I kissed your eyelids, caressed your white skin, said “this is where our new lives begin: ME NE FREGO!”

I looked in your eyes and said “now it’s done, what so many ended has finally begun – my life is on fire it burns with a flame, I long had forgotten rejected my name.”

And when the moon rose above the high ground, I saw in the palm of my hand – looking down – the lines I could trace back to where I belong, and said to myself I must right what is wrong.

And I kissed your eyelids, caressed your white skin, said “this is where our new lives begin: ME NE FREGO!”

Now we sit under the open night skies, wrinkles around your wonder-blue eyes, and sometimes i think back to that early dawn, at the big blue when i was reborn.

And I kissed your eyelids, caressed your white skin, said “this is where our new lives begin.”

And I kissed your eyelids, caressed your white skin, said “this is where our new lives begin.”

DEAD GIRL WALKING

And she walked cross the field, by the church of St George, and the wind was as warm as the day.

But the moon was so cold, far away like the day, and the green grass led her away.

To the docks, on the rocks, she laid down like she had all her seven summers, but tonight:

Just a girl without a name, just another “woman” slain, that longed to be mother and wife. But the “child”, 33, who just loved “liberty”, took poor young Mary-Anne’s life.

She was gone and the long night would not ever end, and there would never shine down any light.

And they found her next day, naked in the grass, and her eyes could not see anymore.

Raped and murdered, Mary-Anne, and the anger they felt in the neighborhood sealed every door.

Just a girl without a name, just another “woman” slain, that longed to be mother and wife. But the “child”, 33, who just loved “liberty”, took poor young Mary-Anne’s life.

In the papers they read: ”we all need to calm down, he’s a good boy, anger is so bad.”

Media they covered up the entire story – after all it was just one more dead.

Someone from the government talked about compassion, “and this boy has seen a lot of pain.”

But compassion is a bitch, when he finished speaking, someone put a bullet in his brain.

Just a girl without a name, just another “woman” slain, that longed to be mother and wife. But the “child”, 33, who just loved misery, took poor young Mary-Anne’s life, took poor young Mary-Anne’s life, took poor young Mary-Anne’s life.