Brodsky Tune - Harket Morten



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 good-bye people die



Chorus: La, la... 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



Chorus...



While the statues disagree

Cain's version, history for its fuel tends to buy

Those who die



As you watch the athletes 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

As your type



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