Lenin and the Wounded Angel

I'm walking on the thin ice of the lake It's almost spring It will melt and break The holes are getting bigger A déjà vu, a prophecy, a joke The skyline with the factories The black sky with the smoke My brains inside a cap of fur My thoughts are burning like a fire It's important to bring electricity To all the corners of the country To fight disease and poverty There's a hand on my shoulder A hand on my head "How do you do?" His face is red and blue "My name is Josef Just for you" I can hear your whispering voice again But I cannot speak your name Tampere Tampere Home of the Holy Smoke The bricks and stones My prison My home Homesick home I can hear your whispering voice again But I cannot speak your name In the distance a snowy road Two boys are carrying a precious load An angel with a wounded wing The younger boy is wearing a hat The other a small brown jacket He's turning Looking at me I can see his worried eyes again I can feel her hidden pain Tampere Tampere Home of the Holy Smoke Bricks and stones My prison My homesick home Tampere Oh, Tampere Drops of blood falling on the snow Like cherries on a table cloth In her hand she's holding A bunch of flowers They bring her to the Blind Girls' School Where the wooden rooms are always dark In corridors with rippled tiles Small shoes are whispering