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The Doors ov DAUGAVPILS: hail to + song

The Doors ov DAUGAVPILS: hail to + song

I’m taking a look not around but from abroad

At what has always been my hometown

At what has never promised or missed me a lot

But what has hardly let or bring me down

I recall how I had used to ride on a tram

For fucking 13 years, to be frank and honest

Monday to Friday, early’s and late’s, like a ram

Always visiting high and low schools and rarely forest

Actually, when you’re from a small town

You don’t need to go in the suburbs to try the ghetto style

At some point DAUGAVPILS is circus and I’m a clown

To worship it and not being marooned at this strange isle

Green unlike the colour itself but like the rest of the district

Gray like Dorian and high-class dust from the barrel house

Gloomy like faces of the aged and homeless pets in the flame of a matchstick

Great like some Alexander but in the female extra large blouse

So, obviously DAUGAVPILS is a G-town with various G-points

Commercial, trading, sport centres, museums, theatres, galleries, schools

Rubbish bins, industrial camps, social canteens, cultural joints

Certainly, not a proper place to be moored for a ship of fools

G-town, downtown, hometown, what other kind of town?

Wastetown, prisontown, dead town, hollow town

Not a place to get born town but a place to get burnt town

Point of your destination or dislocation, a comeback town

A town of pending contact numbers and postal addresses

A town of saved memories and precious moments

A town of childish amusements and mental stresses

A town that would never make you feel homeless

All data about DAUGAVPILS has to be revisited, backed up and restored

Nothing can’t be lost or underestimated

I’ve got the map of it inside of me tattooed on my nerve

It can’t get lost or be terminated

I know where and what DAUGAVPILS is

I know all of his holes of cheese

Because I’m the one of these

And do you know where DAUGAVPILS is

At least…


I’m meeting you instead of sunrise

In the very morning of July

I’m witnessing how the dusk dies

But I would never let you die

There’s no more south and no more north

But there’s still a place that could save us both

Not the Elysian fields, not the Beverly Hills

Just the street and a half of DAUGAVPILS

Just like nowhere else on Earth

Not in Sydney, nor in Perth

I look joyful on all of your stills

Which were taken in DAUGAVPILS

When all the fun comes to its end

New holiday won’t lend a helping hand

So don’t bring me liquor sweets or dead daffodils

Just take me on a walk through DAUGAVPILS