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Their story haunts my memory, I'll tell it to you plain..
in the city of Sarajevo, a place war could never touch,
and hope it never will again.

Already thousands remain so silent under rock and clay, 
in fields of Saffron flowers of May,
and white blanket of snow come the Winter's day.

-Boško-
I remember that moment you led me to your heart.
'mira you shared your deepest secrets as you wept..
In my arms a promise made, 
a promise that will be kept. 

Like signet ring the cross topped spire of Sacred Heart and Gazi Husrev-begova minaret, 
glanced down at burned out cars, and scars of war... 
only a moment of trepidation..,
their future bright 30 meters on. 

-Admira-
 Someday, when we awake..
and our children's laughter no longer a forgotten hope.  
On that day, there will be no more war..,
when people forget what they were fighting for. 

Though war sapped away their will to live,
Admira embraced him just once more..

Encircled by Serb tanks and artillery positioned in the surrounding hills,
divided along ethnic lines.. 
they defied the monstrosity of war by showing that love knows no bounds.

 In Sarajevo during the war, everyone had a bullet with their name on it,
Some people were hit, some were not. 

-Rada-
Sitting once with her alone and I asked her, "Can this war separate you from Bosko?"
-Admira- 
"Dear Rada, only bullets can"

If there was a way to talk to the dead and tell them "I'm sorry"
would you help me find a way?

The sniper's bullet failed to sunder their bond of truth,
though born away from war-torn life.. 
left a love in everlasting youth.

If there was a way to talk to the living and tell them "I'm sorry"
would you liken it to solace prayed?  

Though war sapped away their will to live,
Admira embraced him just once more..

Treacherous ties that bind, promises made in deceitful plan,
they know only betrayal, now.
Only sorrow awaits, when you cross 'No man's land'.

Can a bargain be struck in Deutschmarks, yet debt remain to repay..
intermingled in Christian and Muslim blood?
 
The random thump of mortar shell, and Kalashnikov carries, 
pall of smoke, fiery Molotov and ever raining incendiaries, 
tear life away in one quick moment. 

Boško and Admira walked onto the bridge as two war-crossed lovers madly..
hand in hand, united. A madman's bullet could never separate two so in love.

Though war sapped away their will to live, 
Admira found her way across the divide..
beside her Boško once more to hold, 
now forever side by side..

-Admira-
Dear mother, I know it's been hard for you and dad to go on..,
please pet Yellow..maybe you both won't be as lonely..,
I'm sorry it ended this way.

I'll see you when we meet again one day,
the other side of Vrbanya bridge.

In Memory of Kurt Schork - January 24, 1947 – May 24, 2000
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