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