Tri ratna havera

The night before the Olympic flame goes out
We threw a wild party, Mufa, Kiki, and I
Youth rushed through our lives
Like a stream flowing through the hills
Everything we had was right there on the table
Nothing was left for us

And my fat uncle said back then
Sometimes through tears, sometimes through laughter
For all your bullshit
One day, you'll pay the price

The night before the armed people rise
We sat one last time, Mufa, Kiki, and I
Three buddies, three stories, three languages
We grew up on the same land but from different roots

Mufa was ranting about human rights
Kiki was whining about his bad eyesight
Hell stood before us
And between us, a Great Wall

Mufa, Kiki, and I

Sometimes the noble falls
And sometimes the old fool
No one knows whose head comes first,
This is how the war begins here

Mufa knew where he belonged,
He was ready for that day
I had already vanished
While Kiki stayed to paint the apartment

I watched Mufa on CNN
With an AK and in sneakers
He says he’s just defending his city
And if you don’t defend your city, you’re a piece of shit

Kiki knew that story was bullshit
But he didn’t know how to keep it to himself
He barked around wildly and boldly
Until one night it took him away

Chorus:
Mufa, Kiki, and I
The blizzard scattered us
In three directions, three paths, three old buddies in a rage
Mufa, Kiki, and I.

Mufa found him after seven days
In some house in Bjelave
He entered quietly and just said
Let him go, or I’ll fuck someone’s mother up

That night was deafening and cold
And the Miljacka was cold too
Mufa had sorted out a leg variant
We were waiting for the word from the Chetniks

He fell in the mud and felt the barrel
Saw a bearded face and a sneer
He saw death and heard the words
Welcome to the Republic of Srpska

In the command, Boro the baker was waiting for him
Listen, man, how everyone’s working
Sign up as a volunteer, I’m sending you to Hresu
In a month or two, grab Canada

I heard Mufa’s in Switzerland
With his brother’s wife from a past marriage
They say he can’t live without Sarajevo,
Without that water and that air

A small postcard arrived from Kiki
On it, the waterfalls at Niagara

It writes my name and my address
It says goodbye, cockroaches

The night before signing the Dayton agreement
I dreamed again we were together, Mufa, Kiki, and I
It was like a feast full of various delicacies
It was morning, dew, flowers, and a young peasant girl

The sun was bright and clear
As always after a rainy night
But we were no longer us
In our strength and power.

Chorus:
Mufa, Kiki, and I