Here's Your Life

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HERE'S YOUR LIFE

It'll be worse for you

when autumn comes, Olof.

If things get too difficult,

you can always...

My regards to your family.

Tell them we're well,

and that you could have stayed

if you wanted to.

Give my regards to your family.

If you ever get home...

I mean, if you go that way.

Stay over the summer.

You could keep the rifle.

Or if you want a harmonica,

like the lengthman's son.

You could subscribe to a magazine

with pictures in it.

A correspondence course in English

if you wanted to go to America.

You can't stay at your parents',

what with the illness.

They barely have enough

for themselves.

I had planned on you

staying at least another year.

You've been given

quite a few things over the years.

The odd things that you needed.

Didn't you have it good here

when you were young?

Your father was ill and...

Damn! Goddammit!

I don't want to be well.

I don't want to be well!

-So you're coming home now.

-Yes.

They send their regards.

They say hello...

-And they're fine?

-Yes, they're healthy.

I see. Are you staying?

-Well, I...

-There's always enough for you.

I was thinking...

Dynamite. Blowing things up.

If only I were young...

What kind of shoes do you have?

That's good.

You can't wear those hard shoes.

It's best to be barefoot,

if it's not too cold in the water.

But then it's easy to step on twigs.

I know a fellow

who had a twig pierce his foot.

The sufferings of Jesus

were nothing compared to that.

But every year,

we lose someone.

I knew one fellow.

His face was all black.

Three weeks in the water.

He had been beaten blue.

But when they dragged him up,

he was as black as a negro.

Everyone thought

he had drifted out to sea,

or at least to the city.

But he lay under a log,

just where he fell.

He started to rot

once they got him up.

Even his brother couldn't stand it.

Then it's bad.

His own flesh and blood.

-Are you looking for someone?

-Apparently, I'm going to live here.

You can take that one.

-You're not old.

-Almost 14.

-What's your name?

-Olof.

-Don't you have a surname?

-Persson.

Have some of the coffee over there.

That fellow over there

is from Stockholm.

My name is Olsson.

Let's see if you can do this.

I went to the church

When the need was great

I knocked on the door

Of the church warden

"Open your door

For a suffering soul"

"And tell me something

That will do me good"

"Something

That will do me good"

"Here's no priest

He's gone to baptise"

"Then he'll put a man

In a hole in the ground"

You get comfort when born

Or freezing to death

But never a word

For a suffering soul

It'll be better later on.

In about two weeks' time.

Then you're used to it,

and you'll quit.

That's what they normally do.

Have a cup of coffee, lad.

What does your dad do?

He's a worker.

But he's ill.

Being ill is no fun.

What kind of worker is he?

He worked on the railway.

So he's from the south, isn't he?

They normally are.

I bet he's homesick.

He's ill...

Isn't he homesick for the south,

where it's warm?

Where they grow apples...

Let's go, men.

Don't forget about the two hours

extra I worked.

I'm not here to forget,

but to make notes.

The company keeps track of the time.

Yes, dammit...

Take that, so I don't drop it.

-Well, Gran.

-Yes, I'll take it.

We're drinking

Let's say for eight kronor

We're drinking

Let's say for eight kronor

As long as we have money

As long as we have money

And when the money is gone

And when the money is gone

Then we borrow some for a year

Then we borrow some for a year

And when the money is gone

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