I’m shivering at the frost-bound dawn.
I’m trembling at the stove’s cold breath.
The coal bucket’s empty yawn
Engulfs me. I’m freezing to death.

Crystalized.
Harmonized.
Synchronized.
Tranquilized.

I lift my eyes and I set a course.
I’m losing faith, but I’ll luck it.
Just me and my flying horse -
This rusty old bucket.

Propelled by a morning breeze,
Death rattle in my throat,
I am knocking the snow of the trees
With my fluttering coat.

I’m soaring like a carrion crow,
Ascending like a bird of prey.
The city is down below.
I’m keeping my hopes at bay.

Paralyzed.
Tantalized.
Hypnotized.
I'm desensitized.

Now I shall follow my sinking soul
Down to the dealer’s home.
I’ll beg for one grain of coal
To keep me warm.

The most peculiar falling star.
Lo and behold!
It's covered in soot and tar,
Trembling and cold.
.
Just let it go, you old fool.
Hear the wind blow.
Just let it flow right through you.
And sink into the snow.

words and music by
Błażej Wiśniewski

Der Kubelreiter

Earth into Water.
Heaviness grows.
You need some peace and direction.
You'd better let go.

Water to Fire.
Your memories die.
You want to quench the thirst,
But you’re too drowsy to try.

Fire to Wind.
You feel you will freeze.
You try to draw the air again,
And you wheeze.

In your darkest place,
You still remember
Her hands on your face.

You’ll run to her,
And grab her
With all your might.
Feel the warmth of her clear light.

In your darkest time,
You may fear and stumble
As the world starts to crumble.

You’ll run to her,
And love her
With all your might.
Disappear in her clear light.

Wind into Space.
Your body’s at rest.
Respiratory failure.
Cardiac arrest.

words and music by
Błażej Wiśniewski

arranged for strings by Oleh Mytrofanov

Fearless

I’d follow your lead
Away from this town,
But I wobble and sway,
I keep falling down.

Singing in my bottle.

A song of light,
Love and grace
Thrives in my chest,
And lights up my face.

Singing in my bottle.

Now, tie a rope
Snuggly around my waist,
And drag me far away.
My friend, we must haste!

Neigh proud, my steed,
And I’ll polish the cobble stones.
I may break my bones!

We’ve lost the sight
Of the shores of woe.
I’m covered in dirt,
But my eyes are aglow.

Echoes in my bottle.

The soul of wine
That came from above
Runs through my veins
And fills me with love.

Echoes in my bottle.

I spread my arms
And stare at the deep blue sky.
The balmy wind
Whispers that I can fly.

I leave the ground.
I’m light like a paper kite.
Hold on tight.

Hold on!

My heart was hurt so badly
So I left it at the door.
But may I say it gladly,
I don’t need it anymore.

words and music by
Błażej Wiśniewski

Wobblyings And Swayings

I have stumbled
On a word that
Made me feel like there’s no fear.
It was jumbled,
But I knew it,
And it seemed so crystal clear.

I was drowning in this stream.
I got swallowed by a whale.
It’s a dream within a dream.
But I will prevail.

So I fumbled for that one word
In my heart
That’s ringing true.
And I found it,
Mispronounced it,
But to me, it sounds like you.

When I see that glow in your eyes.
I can break through.
And whatever’s left of me
Hopes the world will last for you.

Now you seem so far,
Now you seem so near.
I have sailed away.
I’m a buccaneer.

On this burning ship.
What a change of scene.
I think the water’s made...
It's made of gasoline.

I have loved to death.
And I know it’s true
I am burnt alive.
And all that’s left is you,

My love.

words and music by
Błażej Wiśniewski

The Burning Ship

They flicker.
They flicker.

They flicker, shine, and they glow, and burn
In definite order around.
I close my eyes, and I try to sleep,
But I hear that incessant sound.

Flies,
Gnats,
Wasps,
Fleas,
Ants,
Moths,
Butterflies and
Bumblebees.

I hear them sneer -
Those frightening miracles.
I tremble in fear.
I grope for my spectacles.
The shadow grows tall
At the foot of my bed.
There's nothing at all.
I am alive.

They flicker, shine, and they glow, and burn
In definite order around my face.
I close my eyes and I fall asleep
Through a union of rays.

Flies,
Gnats,
Wasps,
Fleas,
Ants,
Moths,
Butterflies and
Bumblebees.

I hear them sneer -
Those frightening miracles.
I tremble in fear.
I grope for my spectacles.
The shadow grows tall
At the foot of my bed.
There is nothing at all.
I am alive.

words and music by
Błażej Wiśniewski

Mr. Schreber

I’m lost in this city.
I stagger and stumble.
And split at the seams.

I’m overflowing
With a bustling abundance
Of liquified dreams.

Wind-up toys and mandrake root,
Dusty books of disrepute,
Scents that traveled from afar
Like colophony from Malabar.

My head is buzzing
With schemes and adventures,
Carbonation and hops.

I catch my reflection
In the murky windows
Of cinnamon shops.

Wind-up toys and mandrake root,
Dusty books of disrepute,
Scents that traveled from afar
Like colophony from Malabar.

Telescopes, Bengal Lights,
Tailor’s dummies etched by mites,
Fervid dreams and hidden plots,
Homunculi in flowerpots.

You glow
In the night
With hope
And acetylene light.

Let me in!
Hear my cries!
I see wisdom
In your downcast eyes.

words and music by
Błażej Wiśniewski

Cinnamon Shops

I’m taking my time.
Hear that ringing in my ears.
I’m cleaning my gun.
I’ll be the sum of all your fears.

And If our paths should cross one day,
You better look away, my son,
And keep your mouth shut.
Now I’m cleaning my gun.

I can’t think straight.
Feel that tingling on my skin.
It may be too late
To stop the fire within.

Put me in a straitjacket.
You really messed up. Run!
I’m gonna do it. Fuck it!
Now I’m cleaning my gun.

I try to calm my shaking hands
Holding a cigar.
The memory of you burns like a brand.
It burns like a glowing scar.

God poured love in my heart.
It’s glowing like the sun.
But the Devil put my hand on the trigger,
And loaded my gun.

A million vile and angry thoughts I’ve had.
A million …
A million hours I’ve spent irate or mad.
A million…
A million ways I’ve cursed your name, I swear!
A million …
A million times I’ve been a millionaire.

Hmmm…

Breathe in, keep calm. 
Pray to God and His Son.
Breathe out, easy now.
Put down the gun.

Throw away all the bullets.
One by one.
You’ve caught your eye on the barrel
Glistening in the sun.

words and music
Blazej Wiśniewski

Cleaning My Gun

Spirit_Box

Jesus Christ has left his home
And he got lost 
On a Polish country road.

The sun will rise and shine
In his eyes -
Those welled up lithium skies.

His heart is beating faster.
He may make no sense.
His face of alabaster
Is resting in his hands.

The Pope has frowned 
And called it fraud.
The statue paid no heed,
Frozen still and awed.

A lightning bolt 
Has pierced the skies,
And left a glowing mark
Right between his eyes.

His calcite face is beaming.
The stern facade has thinned.
He’s laughing and he’s screaming,
And running like the wind.

Through fields of wheat and honeysuckles,
The scent of cream and strawberry,
Through orchards of green Polish apples.
He’s roaring like the Baltic Sea.

Jesus Christ has left his home
And he got lost
On a Polish country road.

words and music by 
Błażej Wiśniewski

Polish_Country_Road

The storm has soaked me to the skin.
Above my house there’s a flying saucer.
The ceiling’s cracked and paper thin.
My room is filling up with water.

Now lift me, don’t let go.
I’m scared of the fall.
Encircle the moon glow
With ultramarine like
Chagall.

I slip through your fingers
And brace for the fall.
There’s no fear that lingers.
There’s nothing at all.

I’m glowing red, I pierce the sky
I lose the shirt, I’m getting hotter.
I guess I’ve never learned to fly.
It gets so quiet when I hit the water.

Now exhale and hold tight.
There’s no going back.
The shimmering moon light
Is fading to black.

Stop trying - you know how.
Descend all the way
Abandon all hope now
And keep it at bay.

Cold water
Cold water
Cold water
Cold water

Now carried by a restless stream,
I feel I’ve kissed the gunner’s daughter.
I cannot breathe, I try to scream.
My lungs are full of salty water.

words and music
Blazej Wiśniewski

Chagall

What Kind of Friend Am I

On my way to pick up groceries I’m assaulted by the blankness
The corner he once softened now a hard expanse of pavement
I knew him as Moses, he was from a far-off place
But now he’s gone I realize, I never asked him his last name

He sold me papers, pet my dog, asked me ‘bout my swimming
I kept it light and breezy, wry one-liners, always grinning
But I’m at a loss for words now that I hear he’s been detained
What kind of friend am I, I never asked him his last name

Every day that empty corner silently accuses me
I had a deep bench of excuses, see
He kept trying to engage me in a friendly conversation
I declined his invitation
Friendship leads to expectation, judgement and to blame
Best avoid the obligation, and continue on my way
Sneakin’ through the side door to avoid his searching gaze
It’s hardly a wonder that I never learned his name

I went to ICE and asked for Moses, tell me is he there?
I need to tell my good friend that we’ll help him, that we care
Moses who? they said, come on now, we have hundreds here in chains
Are you really such good friends if you can’t tell me his last name?

The neighborhood was up in arms, poor Moses was so kind
He helped us cross the crosswalk and discouraged petty crime
Put wallets in the lost and found, but we lost him just the same
‘Cause none of us ever took the time to ask him his last name

Every day that empty corner silently accuses me
I had a deep bench of excuses, see
He kept trying to engage me in a friendly conversation
I declined his invitation
It’s ok, it’s not just me, everybody here’s the same
We’re all so friendly but we don’t know anybody’s names
Is our neighborhood camaraderie really just a sheen?
Our community frayed while we looked away, staring at our screens

The corner he once livened now a dead and empty space
I turn my face but I can’t escape the burning glare of shame
Oh I can try to spit out the bitter grit but the hint of guilt remains
What kind of friend am I if I never learned his name




What Kind of a Friend Am I

tedorio

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