| Our ship rolls in to Nagaev Bay
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| Where we’ll toil from the dawn to the last light of the day
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| Yeah the life of a Zek is one of decaying
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| Slowly as the form falls from your frame
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| Kulaks roll in on the endless trains
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| Torn from the land that they dared to claim
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| Tyres lashed to their feet where their boots gave way
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| Their back and barrow doomed to the same fate
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| 2000 miles of dirt beget the Road of Bones
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| Carved in the snow beneath our hacks and hoes
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| Checkas and thieves will rob you blind
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| So carry only that which fills your mind
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| Darkness forms part of every heart
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| It’s been within us from the start
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| Hold memories close for all else goes
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| Fall to the snow on your knees in the wastes of the Archipelago
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| All you may own you must carry with you
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| To mourn for the things that you’ve lost will destroy you
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| Let your soul be enriched by the friends that surround you
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| Pray the strength and the will of the good men still holds true
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| It alone is the seed that must grow to save us
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| In this ravaged land that the stool pigeon gave us
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| Father, Father, Heaven save us
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| Chatter here and there
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| Careless talk is overheard
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| And the Black Mariah rolls off like a hearse
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| Spies are everywhere in this land
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| Where a question brings a curse
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| Calls for clemency
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| Pleading only makes it worse
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| And the charge is none of your concern
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| Fall to the snow
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| On your knees in the wastes of the archipelago.
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| Sharashka spare me from Kolyma
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| from the black of the mines and the bite of the taiga
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| from the lice and the stick and the heel of the Checka
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| Three months or more mark a true survivor |