De tre musketörerna från Fagersjö [De tre musketorerna fraan Fagershoe] [English translation]

I am a very lonely man who lost everything one can lose

and now I sit on the ground and bleed.

I have lost my woman and my soul, and destroyed my futiure.

and yesterday those who once were my brothers disappeared.

I have lied against better knowledge. I have grown silent about my faith.

Now I am sentenced to an eternal search for someone who can believe my word.

So for me there will never be any peace.

I think that the years have gone quickly,

since my friends and I fought together

to collectively resist the outer pressure.

And we were one for all and all for one,

and we grew together

and our solidarity also stood together for all pressures.

So our women were re-shaped in the same form.

Until they couldn't deviate.

Until those consistently approved the group's form

if happiness is to be alike.

until no one could peep behind our walls.

We soon are alienating ourselves from reality,

yes, we believed we were completely worthy

until we could only speak with each other.

But without impact from the outside,

and with a growing feeling of that people are idiots

one has no chance to help any others.

But in the long run we encourage the myth

that we never could be separated.

And if at solidarity is lost

it is a verdict of bad faith.

But in their dissatisfaction one willingly does others ill.

So when the first of us wanted to break free,

seeking to create a meaningful life

we others were, in the feeling of insecurity, desperate.

So we united quickly against our breakaway

and explained that she didn't comprehend

that the talk about another world ended on the street.

But when we nevertheless lost the grip

and suddenly stood there wounded

Our false morals glided away from the ship

and the stabs with the daggers became increasingly harder.

And no defeat has ever been more difficult.

Our artificial bonds were cut one night,

and we screamed loudly with anguish because the night was black.

We had never believed that there was something out there.

Now the talk of solidarity faded

until it became a confusion with loyalty

our spiritual inbreeding was dragged out into the light.

Our habitual routines

looked like exactly those once brought us together

and our inward battles

were all a part of a hairsplitting quota

until we ourselves finally became our greatest threat.

• Artist:Björn Afzelius
• Album:Vem är det som är rädd? (1974).