PaulCrazy Comrade
March 23rd 2007 21:32
Contrary to appearances, this is the most complex of all my sung stories. Drawing heavily from the works of Alexander Solzhenitsyn, it is a love song of the most desperate kind, as sung by a prisoner of a dystopian Communist state. Each line is both an attempt to distil one characteristic of the system and a specific affirmation of love as an all-conquering force.
Sing with a heavy Russian accent to the tune of Wild Thing by The Troggs.
Crazy Comrade
Crazy comrade,
You make my sentence appear shorter.
You make everything politically expedient.
Oh crazy comrade.
Crazy comrade, I think I won't inform my superiors of your subversive activities.
But I may still break under torture.
Come on and share this rotting turnip with me.
I queued for three days to get it. Yeah!
Crazy comrade,
You make salt mine work less arduous.
You make everything less painful.
Oh crazy comrade.
Crazy comrade, I think I can mend your tractor.
But I must travel to Minsk to barter for a fan belt.
Come on and drink this toxic potato liquor with me.
We have twenty minutes to curfew. Yeah!
[Rock out.]
Sing with a heavy Russian accent to the tune of Wild Thing by The Troggs.
Crazy Comrade
Crazy comrade,
You make my sentence appear shorter.
You make everything politically expedient.
Oh crazy comrade.
Crazy comrade, I think I won't inform my superiors of your subversive activities.
But I may still break under torture.
Come on and share this rotting turnip with me.
I queued for three days to get it. Yeah!
Crazy comrade,
You make salt mine work less arduous.
You make everything less painful.
Oh crazy comrade.
Crazy comrade, I think I can mend your tractor.
But I must travel to Minsk to barter for a fan belt.
Come on and drink this toxic potato liquor with me.
We have twenty minutes to curfew. Yeah!
[Rock out.]
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Comment by Lily
Ars Poetica
well i have no idea what 'dystopian' means, all i know is .. i would pass on the rotting turnip, and i hate curfews..
~Lily