BALALAIKAS (2002)
Someday
When I end this charade
When the piper is paid
And withdraws
Someday
When my life becomes my own
Horizons to explore
I finally will soar
To vistas undiscovered and unknown
Will the balalaikas play for me when I get to Russia
Will I greet the matadors of Spain
Will I find enlightenment among the Himalayas
And will the monks endeavor to explain
Will I build a fire in the winds of the Antarctic
Will I walk the isle of Capri
Will someday I wander
When the days are mine to squander
Will the balalaikas play for me
When
Did I last hear my voice
When did I last rejoice
Unashamed
And when
Was the last time I shed tears
My dreams kept under locks
In a fiercely-guarded box
The ransoms paid in weeks and months and years
Will the balalaikas play for me when I get to Russia
Will I greet the matadors of Spain
Will I breathe the air of more intolerable climates
And walk on less hospitable terrain
Will I drown my tears in a café in Casablanca
Will I touch the bottom of the sea
When I’m free to hear
Will the music sound as clear
Will the balalaikas play for me
Like a long-lost son
Or an ancient rune
I will find the man
I discarded too soon
He will help me see
For my eyes are weak
He will free my voice
He will teach me to speak
I drive
But the road stretches on
Rounds the bend and is gone
Out of sight
And rolls through towns I can’t conceive
Time has gone so fast
But not enough has passed
For me to gather up my soul and leave
Will the balalaikas play for me when I get to Russia
Will I greet the matadors of Spain
Will I find the song that haunts my every waking moment
And will it have a different refrain
Will I find myself in lands without a single signpost
Following a map without a key
Will someone remind me
That I mustn’t look behind me
Will the balalaikas play for me
©2002 Z. Mulls
This lyric is registered with the U.S. Copyright Office as part of the collection THE COLLECTED LYRICS OF Z. MULLS Volume One 1995-2006
This lyric is personally very important to me. When I turned 40 (or just before) I took a long solo trip, as I had not travelled much in my life. I wrote this song on the plane to Dallas.
The title comes from my younger son, who was 3 or so, and enjoyed a computer game where he matched instruments to their country of origin. One night in the car he asked if we could visit Russia someday so he could hear the Balalaikas.
