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Viewing Lyrics for Fairwell to Pripchat:

Artist:John McDermott
No album artwork found
Album:Unknown
Track:Fairwell to Pripchat
 
Date Added:18/10/2007
Rating:not yet rated     
Views:1
 
Lyrics:It was a Friday in April 1986,
The day that nightmare begun,
When the dust it fell down on
our buildings and streets,
And entered our buildings at noon,
Touched the grass and trees,
bicycyles, cars
Beds, books and picture frames too,
We stood around helpless,
confused,
Nobody knew what to do.

At two o'clock on Sunday the buses arrived,
A
fleet of a thousand or more,
We were ordered to be on our way,
Not knowing what lay in store
,
Some of our citizens fled in dismay,
And looked for a good place to hide,
When four
o'clock came and the last bus pulled out,
T'was the day that our lively town
died.

(Chorus)
And the shirts, sheets and hankerchiefs cracks in the wind,
On the
window ledge the withering plants,
And the Ladas and Volgas are parked by the door,
And the
bikes in its usual stance.
Our evergreen tree lies withered and drooped,
They've poisoned
our fertile land,
The streets speak a deafening silence,
Nothing stirs but the
sand.

A visit back home is so eerie today,
A modern Pompei in view,
To see all the
old shops ond the Forest Hotel,
And the Promyet cinema too.
The momentos we gathered all
left behind,
Our photos and letters and cards,
The toys of our children untouchable
now,
Toy Soldiers left standing on guard.

So fare thee well Pripchat, my home and my
soul,
Your sorrow can know no relief.
A terrifying glimpse of the future you show,
Your
children all scattered like geese,
The clothes lines still sways but the owners long
gone.
As the nomadic era returns,
The questions in black and white blurred into
grey,
The answer is too easy to learn.

(Chorus)

(Chorus)
 
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