I dreamt of 1992, I was doing the dishes
when I heard on the radio: "They've got
the thing, now it's all over..." I hung
my tea-towel back on the line could not
believe those ears of mine walked into
the room to hear better and echoed softly:
"it's all over..." And I did survive!

I ran to the ghetto, how crowded the
streets with kissing, laughing, crying
men the dancing boys were singing:
"It's all over! It's all over! hail!
we go from bar to bar hail for the
brim-fulled jar! son of a gun, yeah
be gayo!" and I did survive!

(remember Willy, at the age of seventeen,
remember bernie, the queen in all his
majesty
remember Nono, who'd said: "Oh no,
it won't catch me!"
each of them was killed by love, yet
each man didn't die)