morten harket - Brodsky tune (lyrics - J.Brodsky) | Текст песни

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• morten harket
• Brodsky tune (lyrics - J.Brodsky)

As you pour yourself a scotch,
Crush a roach or check your watch,
As your hands adjust your tie -
People die.

In the towns with funny names,
Hit by bullets, caught in flames
By and large not knowing why -
People die.

And in small places you don't know of
Yet big for having no chance to scream
Or say goodbye -
People die.

Let me know!
Let me know!...

People die as you elect
New apostles of neglect,
Self restraint whereby people die.

Too far off to practice love
For thy neighbour, brother Slav
Where your Cherubs dread to fly,
People die.

While the statues disagree
Cain's version, history
For its fuel tends to buy
Those who die.

As you watch the athlets score
Or check your latest statement
Or sing your child a lullaby -
People die.

Time, whose sharp, bloodthirsty quill,
Parts the killed from those who kill
Will pronounce the latter tribe,
Will pronounce the latter tribe
As your type.

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