If Memories Could Talk Back

If memories could talk back,

It would be deafening

It would find itself in the realms of Bollywood

With Simran, this time missing the train

Paralyzed as Raj goes away,

Romanticism and paranoia, synchronized by fluctuating beats

If memories could talk back,

Hitler would talk to Abba,

Tell him he's gonna do it all over again,

The conquest for the world,

A little photograph of Alexander in his wallet,

Calling to Jesus, while he slaughters the Jews,

Over and over and over again,

While Abba tells him, that up there

The shrine is decorated with lost men

If memories could talk back,

The dead wouldn't stay dead

They'll whisper in our ears like little ghosts

Wrapped up in little packets of resurrection

We'll open one each time we miss them,

Every time we'll find them empty,

For Momma still calls me her handsome boy

Even though she sees me no more

If memories could talk back,

I think they'll sing lullabies

For the weak, the strong, the weak

Making a loud noise in search of peace,

Calling it Buddhism, sleeping in naked

For when the wind should send shivers down their spine

All they do is sing themselves back to sleep

If memories could talk back,

They would tell that memories are stupid

That the conquest of the world,

The romanticism of Bollywood,

The sweet lullabies of the dead,

Would lie down with us, as Abba did with them,

For if memories could talk back,

There'll be memories no more.