Bubijeva pesmarica

The adoor it opened Fslowly,
my afather he came Fin,
I was Gnine Fyears Eold.
And he astood so tall Fabove me,
his blue aeyes they were Fshining
and his Gvoice was Fvery Ecold.
He said, C"I've had a vision

and you know I'm strong and holy,
I must Ddo what I've been Btold."
So he Fstarted up the Bmountain,
I was Frunning, he was Bwalking,
and his Faxe was Gmade of A agold.

Well, the trees they got much smaller,
the lake a lady's mirror,
we stopped to drink some wine.
Then he threw the bottle over.
Broke a minute later
and he put his hand on mine.
Thought I saw an eagle
but it might have been a vulture,
I never could decide.
Then my father built an altar,
he looked once behind his shoulder,
he knew I would not hide.

You who build these altars now
to sacrifice these children,
you must not do it anymore.
A scheme is not a vision
and you never have been tempted
by a demon or a god.
You who stand above them now,
your hatchets blunt and bloody,
you were not there before,
when I lay upon a mountain
and my father's hand was trembling
with the beauty of the word.

And if you call me brother now,
forgive me if I inquire,
"Just according to whose plan?"
When it all comes down to dust
I will kill you if I must,
I will help you if I can.
When it all comes down to dust
I will help you if I must,
I will kill you if I can.
And mercy on our uniform,
man of peace or man of war,
the peacock spreads his fan.