Soundtrack

Oy, sleep, my little star… The sirens cry across the sky The earth is trembling, we don’t know why But I hold you close against my chest And sing you songs to give you rest The winter bites, the walls are thin But I have you — I’ll hold you in And if the darkness comes to call I’ll be your shield, I’ll take the fall Спи, моя зіронька, спи… Let the fear just pass us by I’ll weave a blanket from my prayers To keep you safe from all the flares Спи, моя зіронька, спи… Mama’s here, don’t cry, don’t cry I’ve seen the men who take the light I’ve heard the shots across the night I’ve held your hand when we would hide And prayed no one would find inside But in your sleep, you dream of fields Where sunflowers bloom and no one yields To war and hunger, cold and shame I’ll bring you there — I swear, I’ll bring you there Спи, моя зіронька, спи… Let the fear just pass us by I’ll weave a blanket from my prayers To keep you safe from all the flares Спи, моя зіронька, спи… Mama’s here, don’t cry, don’t cry What if I can’t protect you from the dark? What if my love is not enough? But then you breathe, so soft and deep And I remember — I must keep I must keep you, I must keep hope I must climb this endless slope Even if I break, I’ll stand And hold you with my trembling hands Спи, моя зіронька, спи… Dawn will come, I know it will The sun will rise above the hill And we will walk in golden light No more shadows in the night Спи, моя зіронька, спи… You are my reason, you are my why Oy, sleep, my little star… Mama’s here, don’t be afraid… The war will end… the war will end… And you will live…

The morning comes again at five Cold and dark, I’m still alive But time is broken, stuck in place Same fear, same hunger on my face The kettle’s cold, the walls are thin Another day I can’t begin She wakes and calls me with her cry And I just want to lay down and die October the 10th, over and over A mother’s love, a soldier’s soldier The days repeat, the pain won’t break How many times can a heart awake? I hold her close, I count the hours I’ve lost myself in falling towers October the 10th, the clock won’t turn But for her, I’ll burn, I’ll burn, I’ll burn The vodka breath, the heavy hand A man I loved, a stranger stands He takes the money, takes the light And leaves us standing in the night The doorbell rings, the men are here They take what’s left, they feed on fear I hide my child against my chest And pray this day will give us rest October the 10th, over and over A mother’s love, a soldier’s soldier The days repeat, the pain won’t break How many times can a heart awake? I hold her close, I count the hours I’ve lost myself in falling towers October the 10th, the clock won’t turn But for her, I’ll burn, I’ll burn, I’ll burn I’ve killed a man to break the chain I’ve died myself and lived again The sun goes down, the darkness falls But I awake behind these walls There is no grave, no crime, no proof Just heavy silence on the roof And no one knows what I have done Except her heart, beating as one October the 10th, the circle turns A mother’s love, a soul that yearns I can’t go back, I can’t go through But I’m still here — for her, for you

One, two… hide from you. Three, four… lock the door. Someone’s knocking. That’s okay. We’re playing quiet today. Dragon’s walking up the stairs. Shh. He doesn’t know we’re here. Hear the siren? Come with me. Let’s count pigeons. One. Two. Three. It’s only a game. Only a game. Mama gives the monsters names. Hide, little rabbit. Don’t make a sound. It’s only a game while the world falls down. Only a game. Only a game. Close your eyes and count again. Basement’s just a secret castle. Blinking bulb our little star. That loud thunder in the sky? Very, very far. Lie down low. Hold my sleeve. Nothing bad can happen here. Nothing bad. It’s only a game. Only a game. Mama gives the monsters names. Hide, little rabbit. Don’t make a sound. It’s only a game while the world falls down. Only a game. Only a game. Close your eyes and count again. Five — stay close. Six — don’t cry. Seven pigeons in the sky. Eight — hold tight. Nine— Mama? It was never a game. Never a game. Mama only changed the name. Hide, little rabbit. Don’t make a sound. Children learn to play when the world falls down. Never a game. Never a game. Close your eyes. Count again.

Blink. Blink. Cold concrete. Wet coats. People sitting shoulder to shoulder. Someone whispers a prayer. Someone shakes. Someone holds a sleeping daughter. Above us, one weak light. It dies. Comes back. Dies. Blink, little light. Blink, little light. Stay with us just one more night. Siren above us. Child in my arms. Blink, little light. Don’t go dark. Mama says, “We’ll be all right.” Blink, little light. Another morning. Another sky. Something moving over the roofs. Everyone knows before anyone speaks. Hot metal on the street. People scream. She looks at me. So I smile. Blink, little light. Blink, little light. Stay with us just one more night. Siren above us. Child in my arms. Blink, little light. Don’t go dark. Mama says, “We’ll be all right.” Blink, little light. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Listen to Mama. Don’t look up. Blink, little light. Blink, little light. Stay with us just one more night. Mama says, “We’ll be all right.” Even when Mama lies.

A man walks home with bread in his hand. Nothing special. Just bread. Doors open. Then he is gone. No one turns. No one speaks. Bread rolls into the dirty street. A woman bends down. Brushes it clean. Bread is bread. Bread is bread. Someone is gone. The bread is left. Bread is bread. Bread is bread. When children wait, you take what’s left. No questions. No shame. No words for hunger anyway. Bread is bread. Soft part for her. Crust for me. Tomorrow, soak it in water. “I’ve already eaten.” Same lie. Same smile. She breaks her piece in two. One for her. One for the rabbit. His belly’s empty. Mine too. Bread is bread. Bread is bread. Someone is gone. The bread is left. Bread is bread. Bread is bread. When children wait, you take what’s left. No questions. No shame. No words for hunger anyway. Bread is bread. Then one day she pushes the plate away. I’m full. I’m full. I forgot children could say that. Bread is bread. Bread is bread. Nothing holy. Nothing small. Bread is bread. When there is nothing, bread is all.

We’re here to help. Sign your name. Take the money. Just enough to make it through. Till Friday. Till next month. Till something finally changes. One loan pays another. Another pays the first. While we sleep, the number grows. Credit cares. Credit cares. Oh, credit always cares. Knows my number. Knows my name. Knows the floor and knows the door. Credit cares. Credit cares. Calls me when the whole house sleeps. Gives me money for tomorrow. Then tomorrow belongs to them. Sell the coat. Sell the ring. Still the number doesn’t move. Milk or interest. Bread or payment. Tell me what am I supposed to choose? One signature. One more month. One more hole beneath my feet. Credit cares. Credit cares. Oh, credit always cares. Knows my number. Knows my name. Knows the floor and knows the door. Credit cares. Credit cares. Calls me when the whole house sleeps. Gives me money for tomorrow. Then tomorrow belongs to them. We can find a solution. You have a little girl… don’t you? Credit cares. Credit cares. Oh, credit always cares. Knows my child. Knows my door. Knows what I am frightened for. Credit cares. Credit cares.

Five in the morning. I know. Same cold floor. Same dark room. Same voice coming far too soon. Same cough behind me. Same phone on the wall. Same heavy footsteps coming down the hall. I know that sound. I know that breath. I know what happens next. I know what happens next, I know what happens next. Before you speak, before you turn, before the whole day starts to burn. I know what happens next, I know what happens next. I change the day. The day changes me. And morning never lets me leave. Move the cup. Change one word. Make him stay. Make her turn. One minute early. One second late. A different life behind the same date. I know what happens next, I know what happens next. Before you speak, before you turn, before the whole day starts to burn. I know what happens next, I know what happens next. I change the day. The day changes me. And morning never lets me leave. Everybody moves when I pull one thread. Everybody moves. Except me. I know what happens next, I know what happens next. Before you speak, before you turn, before the whole day starts to burn. I know what happens next. I know. I know. Five in the morning. Again.

I mark your height against the wall. Tomorrow comes and takes it all. Same little sweater. Same small feet. Same birthday waiting out of reach. You ask me, “Will I be four?” I smile like I don’t know. Forever three. Forever three. Tomorrow never comes for me. Forever three, you wait for four. But morning puts us back before. Forever three. Forever mine. A little girl outside of time. Forever three. I promise cake. I promise candles. I promise things tomorrow brings. You fall asleep believing me. Then wake to the same beginning. Forever three. Forever three. Tomorrow never comes for me. Forever three, you wait for four. But morning puts us back before. Forever three. Forever mine. A little girl outside of time. Forever three. I don’t need another miracle. I don’t need another day. I just want to see four candles and hear you blow them all away. Forever three. Not anymore. Someday I’ll watch you turn four. Someday.

Will the morning come again? Will I hold her hand again? Will the circle keep its spin, Or am I losing her again? Oh-oh-oh… one small shoe, Oh-oh-oh… and all I knew. Will the morning come again? Will the morning come again? I walked the street from work that day, A crowd, a cry, a world turned grey. A tiny shoe upon the ground, The only thing I found. The only thing that stayed, The only thing that wasn’t saved. Will the morning come again? Will I hold her hand again? Will the circle keep its spin, Or am I losing her again? Oh-oh-oh… one small shoe, Oh-oh-oh… and all I knew. Will the morning come again? Will the morning come again? My little one, can you hear me? My fear has no end… What if the loop just stops tonight? What if I have to live without her light? Just a shoe, a little shoe, And a life I can’t undo. “Mommy?” I’ll hold her till the morning breaks… But please, let the loop turn back again… Let me go back and change that day… Let me catch her before she falls away… Please, let me save her… Please…

I wrote the darkest things I knew. The door. The fear. The little shoe. Every morning I couldn’t lose. Every life the day removed. Then you climbed onto my chair and drew across the page. Three suns over a little house. Three suns where the dark had been. Four small windows. Crooked lines. And suddenly the page was mine again. Three suns. Three suns. You drew light where I wrote night. Three suns. I thought remembering meant pain. I thought the worst would always stay. Then other things came back to me: Warm bread. A laugh. A cup of tea. Little hands. A quiet room. Things the darkness hadn’t ruined. Three suns over a little house. Three suns where the dark had been. Four small windows. Crooked lines. And suddenly the page was mine again. Three suns. Three suns. You drew light where I wrote night. Three suns. The darkness is still on the page. It just isn’t the whole page anymore. Three suns over a little house. Three suns above our heads. I remember what nearly broke me. I remember the light instead. Three suns. Three suns.

Make a meal from almost nothing. Warm her feet against your skin. Tell her the siren is just singing. Smile until she believes. Count the coins. Hide the fear. Carry everything from year to year. And everybody says— Mothers can do anything. Anything. Anything. Carry the child. Carry the debt. Carry the things everybody forgets. Mothers can do anything. That’s what they say. So when her hands begin to shake, everybody looks away. Be the ceiling. Be the wall. Catch the pieces when they fall. Be the answer. Be the plan. Be everything one woman can’t. Mama? Mothers can do anything. Anything. Anything. Carry the child. Carry the debt. Carry the things everybody forgets. Mothers can do anything. That’s what they say. So when her hands begin to shake, everybody looks away. Don’t tell me I’m strong. Don’t tell me I’ll manage. Take one thing from my hands. Just one. Mothers can do anything. Anything. Anything. That’s what you say. That’s what you need to believe. Mothers can do anything. But they shouldn’t have to. They shouldn’t have to.

There is a stone inside my chest That never lets me find my rest I wake with it, I sleep with it I try to breathe, I cannot quit It’s not just fear, it’s not just pain It’s every morning, start again With empty cupboards, empty hands And dreams I cannot understand The weight I carry, no one sees It bends my back, it brings me to my knees But when she smiles, the stone grows light And I remember how to fight The weight I carry, it’s not mine alone It’s hers, it’s ours, it’s all I’ve known But I will carry it through the night Until I find a way to light I sold my ring, I sold my pride I walked through shame with her inside I begged for bread, I stole for milk I wore my silence like a silk No one should know how deep it goes The hidden cuts, the silent blows But every night, I count the scars And dream of reaching for the stars The weight I carry, no one sees It bends my back, it brings me to my knees But when she smiles, the stone grows light And I remember how to fight The weight I carry, it’s not mine alone It’s hers, it’s ours, it’s all I’ve known But I will carry it through the night Until I find a way to light The walls are thin, the winter’s long But in her voice, I hear a song A song of hope, a song of grace That time can’t steal from this dark place I am not broken, I am not lost I’ve paid the price, I’ve paid the cost And when the morning comes again I’ll find the strength to remain The stone is heavy, but I can bear Because I know she’s always there The weight I carry — it’s love, not shame And I will carry it, again and again

Five-oh-seven. I know the hour. I know the sound. I know when darkness takes me down. One more minute. Hold your breath. The clock has always saved me yet. Five-oh-five. Five-oh-six. Five-oh-seven, take me home. Break the day and start it over. Five-oh-seven, come for me. Erase the things I shouldn’t see. Five-oh-seven, don’t be late. I know the rules. I know the date. Five-oh-seven— save me again. The room is wrong. The air won’t move. I watch the numbers change too soon. Five-oh-seven. Nothing. Five-oh-eight. My hands go cold. Five-oh-nine. I’m still here. Five-oh-seven, take me home. Break the day and start it over. Five-oh-seven, come for me. Erase the things I shouldn’t see. Five-oh-seven, don’t be late. I know the rules. I know the date. Five-oh-seven— where have you been? What happens when the nightmare doesn’t end? Five-oh-seven, I called your name. But this time nothing came. Five-oh-seven. Five-oh-eight. Five-oh-nine. Too late.

Papers in my coat. Water in the bag. Her little body heavy in my arms. Checkpoint. Another face. Another man looking at my name. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Three hundred meters. Two hundred. Almost there. Run, run, run. We’re almost gone. Run from the door. Run from the war. Run, run, run. Don’t turn around. One more step to safer ground. Run, run, run. Hold on to me. We’re almost— almost— free. Foreign words above the road. People walking like there’s time. One thin barrier. Other side. A life that doesn’t know my name. One hundred meters. Fifty. Ten. Run, run, run. We’re almost gone. Run from the door. Run from the war. Run, run, run. Don’t turn around. One more step to safer ground. Run, run, run. Hold on to me. We’re almost— almost— free. One more step. One— Five in the morning. Run, run, run. We’re almost gone. Run from the door. Run from the war. Run, run, run. But every road brings me back home. Again.

The door was open. The street was black. A car was waiting. Don’t look back. One little bag. One sleeping child. The border fading mile by mile. The night went on. The sky grew pale. Ten became eleven. Eleven. October eleventh, the morning finally came. A different sky, a different day — but I still felt the same. October eleventh, I touched her face to know: We made it out. We made it through. And morning let us go. A borrowed room. A foreign tongue. I learned the words one by one. New streets. New rules. A different name for everything I knew before. Some days I smiled. Some days I cried. Some days I wanted to go home. But home was gone. So I learned to build another one. October eleventh, the morning finally came. A different sky, a different day — but I still felt the same. October eleventh, I touched her face to know: We made it out. We made it through. And morning let us go. Still, sometimes I wake at five. Hold my breath and listen. No knock. No voice. No siren. Then she moves beside me. And I remember: We’re here. October eleventh, the morning finally came. I carry what I left behind, but I don’t live there today. October eleventh, I hold her close and know: We made it out. We’re learning how to let the old day go. Ten is gone. Eleven came. Keep going.