Radio silence Radio silence It suddenly feels like a new year, Like I’m a million miles away from here. I can see some kind of light here, Although I can’t name it. I want to talk about moonlight, I want to talk about the wild child, you know, That real wild one, dancing alone In the middle of the whirlpool. Spinning tales about silence, About radio silence, About some kind of asylum In the middle of an empty field full of danger. It’s strange I don’t feel like I’m a stranger; I feel like I belong here, I feel like I’ve been waiting for a long time, And now I can tell you some stories, Stories about the madmen, Stories about the dream-child, You know, that real wild one, Who dance alone In the middle of the whirlpool. And I can tell you about silence, About radio silence, About some kind of asylum In the middle of an empty field full of danger. The postcard This is a postcard Saying I’m alright in this beautiful city, This is a phone call Saying, yes, I am sleeping alone here, But the telephone lines are cut, My hands can’t hold the paper – You are on my mind… Nobody knows your name here, Except when the moon is out. And then they toss in their sleep Crying out for you to take them, But me I cannot sleep, I cannot dream, My heart is shattered – You are on my mind… Once seven colors used to make a man blind, And now we are like birds stuck in barbed wire, Precise, like sunrise, A child just like any other, Made of the bones of the earth, Fragile and deathless. Yes, I’m alright, I’m a church, And I’m burning down. The Wind Your eyes are colored like wind, The Wind from the northern sea. A wave on the sand so clear, Whoever got me that far must be laughing; Alright, I can laugh as well. So sweet is your touch, May I never go free, But I’m breaking away To return unbound, And I hear the sound Behind my shoulder Like the shape of the swan, gliding, And when the trees are bare, There will be nowhere to return to But we stay, believing. Your eyes are colored like wind… Bringing incredible news I don’t know if I’m ready, Does it matter? Whoever cut me that deep, I love you. And here I stand, transfixed, Listening to the sound of the wind. The Time Sitting in a corner In my castle made of single-malt and smoke With all my friends around me. And I love them «till I choke And I watch you dance with someone, Someone not even there, And you’re simple as in sacrilege, And you are pure as in player. Somewhere there’s a point of no resistance, But we make sure there’s no getting there. And we’re beautiful when we’re animals But so easily scared. And I cannot even talk to you Stricken down as a hunter to its prey, Sliding down, down this hill of glass again, And there’s nothing I can say. I guess it’s just the time I guess it’s just the time I guess it’s just the time And I will see you when the time is over. And then the northern wind calls, And then curtains part, And then the castle wall falls, And there’s an arrow in my heart. There’s only one way out of prison Which is to set your jailer free. But then, it’s just another bunch of pretty words That stand between the sailor and the sea. So forgive me, though I know you never will Battered by your pride, And so I’m locked again within these castle walls, And you freeze alone outside. I guess it’s just the time I guess it’s just the time I guess it’s just the time And I will see you when the time is over.  Winter Now that the summer is gone, Snow’s on the ground. I sought and I found, I know what I found is true. But the bitter gray sky Fades into silence, Only the fire is left. And some say it’s not enough To carry us through. Days of apple bloom white, Silver and steel, Tales of webs Spun around a careless heart. I dream of the snow-white seagulls, Crying to show me the way, But I will stay here with you, And nothing will ever come To tear us apart. Look into my eyes sister, No harm will come to you. Look into my eyes sister, No harm will come to you. |
