Redshift

If anyone can understand this, it’s you:
once having started the battle, we cannot turn around.
We have to toil until sunset, into the trembling nights.
The lamps are swinging over the terrace.
They are our stars, the sky is black.

Why did Lotta build this absurd house?
Thousand homes, thousand desperate fates,
once everything is exposed.

When you cannot lose any more.
When you cannot win any more.
Only a million bricks in the wall, corridors, inhabited fates.

We step down towards the red shine.
An old drain leads from the slope under Töölö quarters.
If anyone can understand this, it’s you:
Lotta built her house on top of a drain.
The lamps are swinging in front of the windows in Fortuna.
They are our stars, the sky is black.