I am not a story teller but just a drunkard
And if this seems to be a story to you
then you are as high as me in this mountain.
years before when i thought i was the greatest drunk
i saw that old bastard singing and whining
he paid his drink with real money
cursed the world for all its curse
And when he was half asleep
some one carried him to his house
And in the morning the news was all over the place
i heard it from the bar, sipping my vodka
at seven in the morning, And who will drink a vodka in the dawn?
The old fool got a beautiful daughter
And the suitors flew from distant places
only to take a glance at her
but she always stayed inside
They tried to talk with her dad
but the old sucker was always drunk
so one day this guy from nowhere walked towards the door
stroked it loud and clear till he saw her
walking towards, but with a baby in her hands
He didnt take another look but ran
to the village where his friends did wait
He told the story to the world
The old drunkard violated his own daughter
The friends went mad,sooner they became a mob
with fiery torches in their hand
and marched and marched towards the bar
where i sat and drank my vodka as high as a mountain
They pulled him down grabbing his hairs
dragged him through the mud, stripped him naked
Then tying him on a wooden post,crucified
And from the dark she ran with the baby in her hands
Crying for mercy,but some one did what he had to do
he took a knife and slipped it into the old man's chest
The girl cried out loud "leave my husband"
And that thundered and echoed in the corners
Dumbstruck the mob for a second
And i dont know from where that young guy came
who shouted, "Kill the witch"
But for what? If not for wooing the old man
Just for his money,as he told the world
the story of her betrayal with that good old man
lying dead in their midst
but where is the truth? but who cares the truth
they tied her round on a wooden post
gave her the final bath with the kerosine
And purified her in the fire for her sins
As she glazed into a fire ball
nobody noticed that small baby slipping past the crowd
and disappearing into the darkness
As if nothing has happened here
And if this seems to be a story to you
then you are as high as me in this mountain.
years before when i thought i was the greatest drunk
i saw that old bastard singing and whining
he paid his drink with real money
cursed the world for all its curse
And when he was half asleep
some one carried him to his house
And in the morning the news was all over the place
i heard it from the bar, sipping my vodka
at seven in the morning, And who will drink a vodka in the dawn?
The old fool got a beautiful daughter
And the suitors flew from distant places
only to take a glance at her
but she always stayed inside
They tried to talk with her dad
but the old sucker was always drunk
so one day this guy from nowhere walked towards the door
stroked it loud and clear till he saw her
walking towards, but with a baby in her hands
He didnt take another look but ran
to the village where his friends did wait
He told the story to the world
The old drunkard violated his own daughter
The friends went mad,sooner they became a mob
with fiery torches in their hand
and marched and marched towards the bar
where i sat and drank my vodka as high as a mountain
They pulled him down grabbing his hairs
dragged him through the mud, stripped him naked
Then tying him on a wooden post,crucified
And from the dark she ran with the baby in her hands
Crying for mercy,but some one did what he had to do
he took a knife and slipped it into the old man's chest
The girl cried out loud "leave my husband"
And that thundered and echoed in the corners
Dumbstruck the mob for a second
And i dont know from where that young guy came
who shouted, "Kill the witch"
But for what? If not for wooing the old man
Just for his money,as he told the world
the story of her betrayal with that good old man
lying dead in their midst
but where is the truth? but who cares the truth
they tied her round on a wooden post
gave her the final bath with the kerosine
And purified her in the fire for her sins
As she glazed into a fire ball
nobody noticed that small baby slipping past the crowd
and disappearing into the darkness
As if nothing has happened here
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