Ok, so now it's time for some pretentious stuff. Harry Martinson was a Swedish author and poet who wrote the poetic cycle Aniara, about a space ship destined for Mars where it's passengers are about to colonize the planet since the Earth is in a pretty bad shape due to environmental destruction and nuclear wars. However, after a near collision with an asteroid it's course is altered and the space ship is no longer possible to maneuver. and the people on board are doomed to live the rest of their days floating through space.
When Stockholm City Theatre celebrated 50 years, they thought it a good idea to set this up as a play and hired Kleerup (the guy behind Robyn's With Every Heartbeat) to compose music to it.
Lyrics would be something like this:
And somebody said that the shadow beneath the trees
got whiter, the more the frost came
as if its green grass was the hair of summer
that quickly aged and turned to ice
and I stood silently and frozen there in the dark
and only heard everything that was dear to me
disappear into a dark and icy wind
and the summer was soon dead in the land of Rind
So the wind turned
the black heat came
Then I fell straight into somebody’s arms
somebody who came running and who shouted
I did not know who in this darkness
had caught me when both legs gave way
if this was a devil or a human being
then the thunder increased to a hurricane
and the one who held me shouted louder
“protect the eyes, it's coming soon"
So the wind turned
the black heat came
Then I made my voice as shrill as I could
and shouted back at him “I am blind!
And therefore I am protected, I have never seen,
but only ever felt the land of Rindâ€
Then the man released me and ran for his life
I do not know where to in the night’s hot rumble
that suddenly could only be drowned out
by terrible thunderstorms from afar
So the wind turned
and the black heat came
Luckily I came to a stony cave
where the heat was not so unbearable
and somebody led me through the night
the time that followed became my year of fate
I taught myself the braille of the big scream
I touched my face with my hand
now I am a singer in the third hall
and will never return to my land
So the wind turned
the black heat came
so the wind turned
the black heat came