Lyrics of Branislava - Đorđe Balašević

Branislava (original)

U prvi suton
Jesen je napala na kej
Park se sepurio u zutom
Ko stari usminkani gej
Na uglu Glavne i Dunavske
U moj je prostor krocila
Titrala poput svece slavske
Senka sa njenim ocima
A bila je cvetak
No, to je jucerasnja vest
Svi smo mi gospodari sveta
Tu negde s dvadeset i sest
Nas grad je bio njen licni atelje
Veliki film se snimao
Bila je jedna od tri zelje
Koje sam ikad' imao
Za druge je smisljala slatke kolekcije
Vise ukrase, u bojama neznim i toplim
Za sebe zaketice
Od nekih grubih stofova
I nisu vredele lekcije
Navukla se na pilule i Dzenis Dzoplin
I prve paketice od
Onih propalih grofova
A pricu je moju slusala skepticno
Za nju je, naravno
To bilo totalno fals i pateticno
Male banalne strasti
Ljubav, ljubomora
Ceznja i bol
I tom slicno
Uzas pateticno
U prvi suton
Odjednom je zahladilo
Davno sam nacuo da je na zutom
Al' nije me iznenadilo
Do gala-revije smo
Eto, napokon stigli
Dame i gospodo
Ofucana kolekcija za strasila
Na koncu prica vodi igli
E, super si model sasila
A ja sam pred zivot istupio
Najezen i razdrljen
Ko pred streljacki vod u zoru
Iz straha nepromenjen
Dok metak putuje
Al' sa sudbom se natezem
Onako zagrljen
Ko dve pijane lude na soru
Znam kaljavo ordenje
Na mom kaputu je
Hajde, pricaj mi malo o patetici
Tvoji su sveci za mene tek
Ubogi mali heretici
Pricaj mi malo o tome, ili, nemoj

(translation)

At dusk
Autumn attacked the quay
The park turned yellow
Like an old make-up gay man
At the corner of Glavna and Dunavska
She stepped into my space
Titled like a saint of glory
A shadow with her eyes
And she was a flower
But that's yesterday's news
We are all masters of the world
Somewhere around twenty-six
Our city was her personal studio
A great movie was being made
She was one of three wishes
Which I ever had
For others, she came up with cute collections
More decorations, in soft and warm colors
For yourself zaketice
From some rough stofs
And the lessons were not worth it
She got hooked on pills and Janice Joplin
And the first packets of
Those failed counts
And she listened to my story skeptically
For her, of course
It was totally false and pathetic
Little banal passions
Love, jealousy
Longing and pain
And the like
Horror pathetic
At dusk
It suddenly got cold
I heard a long time ago that it was yellow
But it didn't surprise me
We're at the gala show
Here they finally arrived
Ladies and gentlemen
A tattered collection for scarecrows
At the end of the story leads the needles
Well, you're a great model
And I stepped before life
Horrified and torn
Like in front of a firing squad at dawn
Out of fear unchanged
As the bullet travels
But I'm struggling with destiny
Embraced like that
Like two drunken lunatics
I know muddy decorations
It's on my coat
Come on, tell me a little about pathos
Your saints are just for me
Poor little heretics
Tell me a little about it, or, don't