lirik lagu kal-la-kal-la - eigenstate
[intro: roscoe holcomb]
just two little children, whining on a bed
both of them so hungry, lord, they can’t raise up their head!
oh, i wish i was a single girl again
just dishes, (a) little washing, springs to go to
husband’s always drinking, lord, i have~
[bridge: kal~la~kal~la, spoken]
you simply go out and shut the door without thinking, and when you look back at what you’ve done, it’s too late. if this sounds like the story of life, okay
it was raining. the neighbors who had a key were away. i tried and tried the lower windows, stared inside at the sofa, plants, the table and chairs, the stereo set~up. my coffee cup and ashtray waited for me on the glass~topped tablе, and my heart went out to them. i said, “hеllo friends,” or something like that. after all, this wasn’t so bad. worst things had happened. this was even a little funny. i found the ladder, took that and leaned it against the house, then climbed in the rain to the deck, swung myself over the railing, and tried the door, which was locked, of course. but i looked in just the same at my desk, some papers, and my chair. this was the window on the other side of the desk where i’d raise my eyes and stare out when i sat at that desk. this is not like downstairs, i thought. this is something else
and it was something to look in like that, unseen, from the deck. to be there, inside, and not be there. i don’t even think i can talk about it. i brought my face close to the glass and imagined myself inside, sitting at the desk, looking up from my work now and again, thinking about some other place and some other time. the people i had loved then
i stood there for a minute in the rain, considering myself to be the luckiest of men. even though a wave of grief passed through me, even though i felt violently ashamed of the injury i’d done back then, i bashed that beautiful window and stepped back in
[breakdown: goran visnjic, spoken]
to… kakav san nas čeka u tišini smrti
to je ono što trepnju našu stprljivom tako čini, jer
tko bi podneo bič i klatno vremena
zločinstva silnika, prezir oholica
bol… neuzvraćene ljubavi, bezobzirnost vlasti, sporost pravde
kad bi sam smogao sve to riješiti, tek jednim, jedinim ubodom
[outro: goran visnjic, spoken]
be all my sins remembered
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