Children of Blue Flamingo, Анастасия Шафран, Евгений Белобородко Rebellion eng

Play "Rebellion"!
How much for a ticket to the station called "Bridge"?
Maybe a pair of autumn leaves?
Oppose the line, and straighten your smidge
With a drum to the beat, oh, how it cleaves!
Many songs have been sung about glorious war,
How much would I take with me there?
Yet the sky looms large, filling me with dread,
Dividing our nations, all laid bare.
I need just a ticket to reach that old site,
Where shadows loom over the ravine.
As purple ribbons close in unison tight,
On the flags of the warriors once seen.
Panting from running, hiding the fire,
The spark of the ember, sacred and wild,
Trading the hillside for the call to inspire,
“I am alive!”— a child cries to the mommy.
The phone lines flicker and dance in the night,
In the plain where the road lies so bare.
And again and again, in my steel boots so tight,
I bruise my poor feet, yet I do not care.
I swore that I must reach the edge, to get
To run and to glide toward the cliff.
Do you hear how the sea foams with fret,
In this night of the great surge’s whiff?
I'll fly a kite over the river below,
Yet won’t catch it, who doesn’t believe,
That one day all winds will return home,
And no child will ever grieve.
How much for a ticket to the station called "Bridge"?
Too dear, too small, is what I see.
How much is the cost? The question’s now vague —
What’s right is the price that it took to be free.