Turn back the Clock [Give me my life] “L.N.”

Turn Back the Clock!

 Adonaev:
In some ways, you are like her, you know.
Silverstova:
You say the same blatnoy to every woman.
Adonaev:
             And she’s looking at me now like she’s ready to go!
Silverstova:
        Put down your guns, put down that knife!
Adonaev:
 In many ways you would like her, you know.
 Silverstova:
          Put up your hands, I am your foe!
Adonaev:
         And she’s looking at me now like she’s ready to blow!
          Dasha:
   Turn back the clock give me my life!
         Sebastian:
   I didn’t ask to lead a life of constant night.
          Dasha:
All that struggle made us crazy, all that terror all that fight!
             And he’s looking at me now like he’s ready to go!
        Silverstova:
      You deeds betray you Comrade, this you know. You have things, you have done damage, to the wrong person, to an Oligarchic foe.     
Sebastian:
       We sit down, we sit down!
I once thought I knew this town,
         In different cities. We pieced together
Our interpretation of the future, our impressions of the day.
  There’s a ship there a plane, for my people for my brain,
 It’s going down.
Maria:
 We are all dying, we all cry!
   There is nothing left to say!
           We are all compromised, in our own immoral way. An altruistic sigh,
    And we lie. And still we lie, some we lie about the world all day. 
Sebastian:
        We are hunted now, we die and thus we kill, and in vengeance we repay.
FIND CAN, YOU FIND,  the clever proverb in a Russian mind or in low poetic English for SAD redeeming things to play, we might, not even,  live to ever truly say.
Maria:
HEVAL, YES HEVAL WITH YOUR BACK AGAINST THE WALL!
Raise your head up!
RAISE YOUR GLASS, now is not  time to fall.
Adonaev:
That’s not how the Story Ends, this time!
“You found your son, I saved my wife, we helped our people win the war.”
Dasha:
That’s not how the Story Ends, this time!
Your friend Ana Campbell isn’t dead this time, 
        This is much bigger than Rojava, this is far bigger than a rhyme!
We are so called regular people, we still comprehend the revolutionary side, 
Adonaev:
I CONFIDE, I CONFIDE, I GOT TO LIVE WHEN THEY ALL DIED!
ILL DO MORE, ILL DO MORE !
Of this long epic thing that sounds like FOREIGNE LULABIES and gory folklore!

Dasha:
LULABIES? she cries, fuck your lulibies, RIFLES WILL DO MORE!
That’s not how the story ends this time;
Tragically as it might be, 
You get to start again. Tell us what you fought for! TELL US WHAT WE NEED TO SEE. TELL US ABOUT ABOUT KURDISTAN, ABOUT YOUR AGONY!
Sebastian:
No, no, no, this isn’t right, 
I turned my gun on Daniel Newey before the fire fight that night.
Daria’s alone and in FULLY GILDED poverty, 
She’s trapped in NEWYORKgrad. What have I done! I SQUANDERED MY LAST OPPORTUNITY, TO be..
DASHA:
FUCK YOU BLAT! 
ALL AND YOUR AMERICAN DREAM, IT MAKES ME SCREAM, IT MAKES ME bleed, it makes you fat!  it impales you on its sword.
Sebastian is now sealed away for life in a psychiatric ward! 
He should not have picked up that gun!
      For a fight that can never be won.
Sebastian:
Sad, little Anya’s dead. Blat,
40,000 other friends are also dead, very sad, and Ayar is losing his mind out in Bagh-dad.
Piling and Dan Newey are serving prison terms for life, situations dire,
Afrin fell,
Qandil, Zap and Haftanin are on fire!
    Sad? Who is sad, the impossible is going bad.
Daria:
I’m a caged whore for a guy, old enough to be my dad.
Maria:       
That’s not how the story ends this time!
Thats for sure!
I’m a woman not a shot girl, I’m a journalist god dammit not someone’s fucking whore!   
What were these hands all grasping for!? 
Tell it better, give us something, give us hope,give us something to believe in! 
Give us guns, or give us rope.
Don’t let your martyrs’ die for nothing, hold out longer dear defeated Afrin! Hold out longer up in Qandil, fight, fight on with hype or hope.
Sebastian:
That’s not how the story ends this time!
Sebastian finds his mind in Chapter 3. And long live the Kurdish resistance, I wonder what immortality Anya can now really see, 
When the lights go out and the rubbing oil turns her to Cleopatra.
But, this is sad long terrible black soliloquy. Resistance was our mantra.
About the things we did, WE ALL DID, to we. It was murder carried out like tantra.
IT WAS LIFE; LIVED FREE!
Maria:
That’s not how the story ends this time!
Afrin is defensible, Anya is a happy kid ALIVE again. Yazan conquers his disease. Sebastian has the strength of lions, of over 45 men! 
THERE’S NO SHAME OR BLAME,
But that’s all in your sad AMERICANO mind game!
But now we RE-begin, 
Everyone lost something and it seems hard to think we could ever REALLY win.
 It’s over you all lost, things are still the same. But go ahead and Give them something to believe!
   
Sebastian:
“Give me back my shattered life!”
I am sword. I am your knife.
    Let my people find a way to win.
    Or I’ll bring the terror and strife right to your shore. I’ll make you all pay for your apathetic sin.
And she’s looking at me now like she’s ready to go!
    Turn back the clock give us our lives!
Silverstova:
And he’s looking at me now like he’s ready to go!
    Turn back the clock give us our land!
Adonaev:
And she’s looking at me now like she’s ready to go! Ready to blow.
    Turn back the clock give us our lives!

The curtains fall on the first act. The bloody future, it arrrives.

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