Rasputin Catamite (Sasha’s Lament)
Poor Sasha. Sometimes the only way to deal with the shittiness of life is to sing the blues, or at least an impromptu lamentation.
Sasha looks sad, with eyes closed.
SASHA Singing to himself
If I could travel to the past I’d rather not be born. I’ll settle for fixing one thing, and my heart won't be torn. So, I sing in hushed tones as I sit here alone. You were my Rasputin. I was your catamite. Changes floating in the wind, can’t find the strength to fight.