9 - The mad warrior (6 mn 05) Act II Scene 5

I stroke my young horse and give it an apple
It is worth a lot more than many men
In this regiment : the cossacks of St George
Who, at the least thing, with no reason, slit throats

And here comes from hell the worst of us all
Serguei : mad warrior with no conscience
He thinks one is his friend if one dreads him
Everybody distrusts him, he’s unwholesome.

He enjoys telling ‘bout his exploits
How, being about to freeze to death
He had disemboweled his horse with his knife
And heartless he had warmed up in its guts.

Summer 1917, I am on the road, on the road to ruin. I know I must desert.
Summer 1917, I am on the road, on the road to ruin. I know I must desert.

I stroke my young horse and give it an apple
We are all cramped in huge carriages
We were given arms and some ammunitions
Serguei has it that we’re on a big mission

What is it ? We just don’t know
Where are we headed ? We don’t know
Complete mystery surrounds our mission
The officers don’t answer our questions

The train takes us at full speed
Serguei is impatient so it doesn’t bode well
I escape thinking of Anna : where is she ?
Suddenly all is black. We’re in a tunnel.

Summer 1917, I am on the road, on the road to ruin. I know I must desert.
Summer 1917, I am on the road, on the road to ruin. I know I must desert.

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