Si Kahn
Language: English

Related Songs

First Time at a War
(Si Kahn)
Send Me Back To Georgia
(Si Kahn)
Washington Square
(Si Kahn)

Album “Courage”‎


Un ragazzo di montagna, che ha ricevuto in regalo il suo primo fucile prima ancora di andare a ‎scuola… Suo padre gli insegna non solo a sparare ma le regole della caccia tra le quali quella d’oro: ‎l’animale non deve soffrire, “un colpo, un cervo”.‎

The Deer Hunter, Michael Cimino, 1978.‎
The Deer Hunter, Michael Cimino, 1978.‎

Passano gli anni, il ragazzo è ormai adulto e la sua unica prospettiva in quel posto è di finire ‎secondino nel carcere locale. Così preferisce arruolarsi e finisce tiratore scelto su altre montagne, ‎quelle dell’Iraq. Qui però nel mirino del fucile non c’è più un cervo ma un altro essere umano.‎
Il ragazzo non regge, qualcosa gli si rompe dentro…‎
Stress post-traumatico, dicono i dottori dell’esercito… ‎

Lui, il cacciatore dalla mira infallibile, sceglie di amputarsi l’indice della mano destra.‎
I grew up hunting with my father
In a little mountain town not far from here
When I turned six he gave me my first rifle
I was eight years old when I killed my first deer ‎

Dad said I had an itchy trigger finger
We needed meat and I had steady aim
But if I could not kill an animal cleanly
I'd give it up and never hunt again ‎

Somehow I barely made it through high school
I dreamed about escaping every day
I couldn't see me working at the prison
I joined the Army just to get away ‎

The mountains of Iraq felt like my hometown
The valleys and the ridges looked the same
I knew that I was born to be a soldier
I figured it was just like hunting game ‎

I saw him in my scope across the valley
I squeezed the trigger slowly and he fell
But in that moment I felt something breaking
And my immortal soul went straight to hell ‎

The Bible says it is a sin to murder
I figured that in war it was all right
But always in my dreams I see him falling
His blood soaks my pillow every night ‎

The doctors say that I'm just post-traumatic
They tell me that with time the mist will clear
But they don't understand the things that happen
When you can't tell a person from a deer ‎

Some nights I dream I'm hunting with my father
Some nights I dream they've sent me back to war
Dad said I had an itchy trigger finger
So I cut it off and I will hunt no more ‎

Contributed by Dead End - 2012/9/14 - 13:25

Main Page

Please report any error in lyrics or commentaries to

Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.

hosted by