Ballad to the Dying Cosmonaut

Cosmonaut, Cosmonaut, show us your worth,

Hurtling hopelessly back to the earth.

Your screams they will haunt us wherever we go,

You've shown what your made of, if only we'd known!

They told you small lies, at first, but they festered:

You knew all along what was really sequestered!

You kicked and you screamed, cried 'Yuri, don't leave!'

But one man is nothing against the machine.

Perhaps now you see them, up there in the clouds,

Turning to ash as you curse them aloud;

'You stupid yebanko, you nepotist swine!'

At least noble Yuri will not have to die.

Oh, how many times did they hear your voice saying:

'If this is Raketa, you better start praying.'?

Perhaps only once, twice, but never enough.

You prove your words right, as you call out their bluff.

'Let me go instead,' you told them at last,

'Not everyone's soul here is made out of glass.'

They praised you, and reckoned they'd build you a plaque,

But deep down you knew you would never come back.

Oh, why did you do it, go into that night?

To set off the fire that needed a light?

'It had to be me.' you whisper to static,

Pristinely aware of your flawed frame's schematics.

The windows are red, your body is black

A wide open grob waits instead of a plaque.

The radio burns, so soon will your flesh

As finally words are now put to the test.

Cosmonaut, Cosmonaut show us your worth,

Hurtling hopelessly back to the earth.

Your screams they will haunt us wherever we go,

You've shown what your made of: a heart laced with gold.

Russian words:

Yebanko -Idiots; fools

Raketa - Spaceship

Grob - Coffin