Lenin And The Wounded Angel

I'm walking on the thin ice of the lake

It's almost spring

It will melt and break

The holes are getting bigger

A déjà vu, a prophecy, a joke

The skyline with the factories

The black sky with the smoke

My brains inside a cap of fur

My thoughts are burning like a fire

It's important to bring electricity

To all the corners of the country

To fight disease and poverty

There's a hand on my shoulder

A hand on my head

"How do you do?"

His face is red and blue

"My name is Josef

Just for you"

I can hear your whispering voice again

But I cannot speak your name

Tampere

Tampere

Home of the Holy Smoke

The bricks and stones

My prison

My home

Homesick home

I can hear your whispering voice again

But I cannot speak your name

In the distance a snowy road

Two boys are carrying a precious load

An angel with a wounded wing

The younger boy is wearing a hat

The other a small brown jacket

He's turning

Looking at me

I can see his worried eyes again

I can feel her hidden pain

Tampere

Tampere

Home of the Holy Smoke

Bricks and stones

My prison

My homesick home

Tampere

Oh, Tampere

Drops of blood falling on the snow

Like cherries on a table cloth

In her hand she's holding

A bunch of flowers

They bring her to the Blind Girls' School

Where the wooden rooms are always dark

In corridors with rippled tiles

Small shoes are whispering