The shortest post ever
When you hear of some mass snuff fest and notice someone crunching numbers of stiffs, adding zeros, subtracting zeros … reminding everyone of some past thousands and millions … arguing endlessly, ceaselessly …
… know that the piece of shit in question surely has no time to mourn the death of single human being. So introduce the specimen with your middle finger and give a tear for ones who are gone.
This is all old Kali has to say re: Srebrenica massacre. You’ll find lyrics in translation bellow:
Why are you gone
Why are you gone, why are you gone;
When on young flowers of the meadows;
Mute night threads it’s pearls;
In my bossom the song prepares for a flight,
Why are you gone, why are you gone
When sleep blesses me with respite;
And soul sinks in tranquility;
From my heart the voice creeps out;
Why are you gone, why are you gone
Every path blossoms with flowers;
Like it used to in those days of wonder;
Still the water sprinkles the roses,
Clear water from the fountain
At the hour of abundant joy
At the hour when sighs are being born
my love the song awakes
Why are you gone
Why are you gone
Why are you gone
Lyrics by: Aleksa Šantić
Sung by: Jadranka Stojaković
