MYLUTIN On April the Eight

Muzika i tekst Milutin Petrović
On April the Eighth
On April the eighth, he heard John Prine let out his final breath
He thought - Oh, it’s ninety-first birthday of great Jacques Brel,
It's a good occasion - I will contemplate in my own shell.
It was a good day for thinking about death
It was election year, you can measure solitude in length,
Thought that few verses are le mort, thought: now dead is Prine
Creepy angels from Alabama River fly along his spine,
Oh it was good season for thinking of the dead
Took his guitar, wondering where goes all that strength
When fingers find some chords, and song starts having a plan
Maybe all that force lies on the island, near Paul Gauguin
That was a good year for thinking about death
What happened was some kind of doom, awakening of hidden Seth
War with something, and no war was a good war for Prine
So John returns in his penthouse, on high floor of The Divine
This is another good century for thinking of the dead
He was in prison for security reasons, for the reasons of health
“Murder Most Foul” was playing, that was some kind of a sign
He knew: Good Lord, tonight Jacques Brel will cry for Prine
It must be a good time for thinking about death
On April the eighth