The Refugee Lyrics - Ezra Furman

I am a refugee now 

I am running like mad across a frosty green Poland 

My head in a sack 

And the blood in my brain screaming 

"How did this happen?" 

And "Where am I now?" 

Who is so blue in this freeze 

Who is so grey with the history 

Rain dancing all on my face without mercy 

And the muscles relax 

And I just have to laugh 

Through the loose teeth and tissue 

The symphony builds under your boot 

And the horns drool in harmony 

Dancers all swoon 

This is my bloody tune 

My last gasp of the past 

My thorn in the side of the violence of time 

I won't scream, I won't writhe 

I am laughing and burning alive 

Like a thornbush 

That grew in the hot countryside 

Now the fire is high 

And I am not consumed 

Yes, this is the room 

This is the old song from memory 

This is the sound of the Jew 

Who refuses to die 

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April 4th, 1944 

I recall my old address no more 

I live day to day on the glossy dancefloor 

Of a wide countryside full of disappeared people 

I sleep in the churches 

Eat grass like a goat 

The calendar hangs on the wall of my memory 

My name is inscribed up the sleeve of my coat 

Here I am 

Take this document with you 

The lines that I wrote as I bled through the night 

In a strange rusted land 

I have ripped the page out 

It is here in my hand 

Here I am 

Photos 

Person of the book 

But I have lost my page like so many others 

I am left to inscribe my own name 

On a torn one 

We will have a new book scattered far 

Across the expanses 

The scrapbook of signatures scrawled 

In forgotten, lost diaries 

Texts to recite when time's bloody boot 

Dances and kicks in the bone of our chest 

Like soft earth 

And our ancient hoarse voices 

Will echo in song 

And resound off the curve of a high stony ceiling 

The curve of the arch 

From our death to our birth