I Returned
Kirill Kronrod
June 12th, 2005;

I returned to a city standing on the crossroads		
After months of exile on the edge of the rope		
To the pictures I've painted inside of my head		
I replaced all the colors with your image instead

Solo (Kira)
Solo (Ashot)

And I kept on repeating sounds making no sense
To a group of bystanders that were rushing ahead
Everything that I owned slipped away for a dime
Slicing up on a flesh, turning blood into wine

I let people come close to museum of pain
Through the glass they observed angels going insane
Levels surfaced on reasons, sunrise laid into dusk
Printed letters on pages disappeared under dust

It was one final push, I was playing my part
I removed all the valves from my trembling heart
On the layers of pillows and illusion of pride
I saw concept of darkness morphing into the light

Solo (Ashot)
Solo (Kira)

I returned to a city standing on the crossroads
After months of exile on the edge of the rope
To the pictures I've painted inside of my head
I replaced all the colors with your image instead

I returned to a city...


© Kirill Kronrod, 2005