Previously unreleased

Frank

Since the late morning Frank's been sitting in the bar,
Behind his glassy eyes there’s an emptiness deep and dark
He’s sitting at the end of the counter, staring into his glass
At the bottom of his glass there are dancing ghosts of the past

The clothes that he wears were once part of a uniform
‘Till one year ago Frank was the sheriff of this town
He loved that job and he did the work honest and well
He was God-fearing and grateful, he was respected by the fellow men
Now there’s just pity and the people lower their gaze
When they meet Frank in town – they don’t understand

     Every night Frank wakes up drenched in sweat
     And there are these pictures he can’t get out of his head
     There is Jim, staring at him, like to say: “I don’t understand”
     And there is this sadness, there arefear and pain on his face
     Suddenly Jim moves his mouth and whispers: “Forgive me my blame”
     Then Jim dissolves like a tin soldier in a flame

Frank and his brother Jim were born and raised in this town
A small town in the Midwest, near the highway 61
Their parents were hard working people, God-fearing, modest and decent
And they tried to raise their sons to good and honest men

Frank was five years younger than his brother Jim
Although they always act like identical twins
They were inseparable from their childhood to the youth
And even when they were grown up, they still could rely on each other too

They reached out for each other in good and in bad times
Together they went through thick and thin side by side They made everything
together, sang the same songs, got the same friends
And they thought this bond would never end

     Sometimes they imagined to found their own company
     A car repair shop or a hardware store maybe
     Sometimes they imagined to live next door with their families
     Sitting together in the sunset, drinking a beer
     Their children playing together on the grass
     Cavorting and laughing in the front yards

Time went on, Jim finished school and he took a job in a factory
But later he resigned from that job and he went to the army
And when Frank finished school, a few years hereon
He became the deputy sheriff of this town

Then Jim had to go to Afghanistan
In a land far away from home, to fight there in that war
The first time Frank and Jim stayed in touch constantly
Jim called Frank almost every week

But then Jim became more and more tight-lipped by and by
And the phone calls became more and more rare over the time
And then, suddenly, the contact broke off completely
Frank and his parents followed the news on TV

When Jim came home in 2019, he had changed
His laughter and his humor seemed to be blown away
He never talked about the things that happened in Afghanistan
He never talked about the things he had seen or done

He sat most of the time silently in the bar and he drank too much
And Frank was sure he took also harder drugs
There was an emptiness behind his blue eyes
And it seemed there was a dark cloud surrounding his mind

There was this sadness, there was despair and there was this rage
And he went postal over every little thing time and time again
And Jim got into trouble every now and then
And time and time again Frank helped Jim out of a jam

Then last year, one Friday night, Frank got a call
Jim was in trouble again in a bar at the edge of the town
Frank jumped into the patrol car and rushed through the streets
When he arrived the bar, he came upon a confusing scene
There were broken chairs and splinter of glass all around
And a man was lying on the floor, and there was a lot of blood
In the middle of the bar Jim flourished a gun
His eyes were flickering from alcohol and drugs
His speech was slurred and he staggered, he shouted and he romped
Frank cried his name but Jim didn’t respond
Suddenly Jim hoicked his gun and aimed at a woman near the door
He shot three times and the woman dropped bad injured to the floor
And Frank drew his gun and he pulled the trigger and he shot his brother down
And Jim slowly turned to Frank and wide-eyed he dropped to the ground

     Every night Frank is haunted by the same dream again
     And there are these pictures he can’t get out of his brain
     There is Jim, staring at him, like to say: “I don’t understand”
     And there is this sadness, there are fear and pain on his face
     Suddenly Jim moves his mouth and whispers: “Forgive me my blame”
     Then Jim dissolves like a tin soldier in a flame

Now Frank is sitting almost the whole day in the bar,
Behind his glassy eyes there’s an emptiness, deep and dark
He’s sitting at the end of the counter, staring into his glass
At the bottom of his glass there are dancing ghosts of the past

Translation: