Trail of Trampled Roses

Text: Johan Bohlin
Musik: Johan Bohlin & Mats Jonsson Skywell

there’s no future here, for us, mother dear
nothing but the concrete and the growing fear
tearing us down, school’s a playing ground
I’ll put little sister on the tram to town

the will to belong, a straw to hold on to
I hope I know I hope I won’t be staying for long
you don’t want to come? I’ll leave on my own
the price I have to pay for being born in the cold

no life I’d chose, the place I was born
freedom? the lord’s at my door
free to buy a life I can’t afford
tales of freedom, heard them before

too inexperienced, too badly dressed
started with nothing, got most of it left

along a trail of trampled roses
darwin’s finest march in line
no room for poetry or prosa
march along and maybe, someday

the politicians have
forgotten this place
it happens so easy
when you live somewhere else
their horse monger grins,
high self esteem
no concept of the slope I’m in

along a trail of trampled roses
darwin’s finest march in line
no room for poetry and prosa
no room for the deaf or dumb or blind