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| 1. |
| 4:26 | 
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| 2. |
| - |
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| 3. |
| - |
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| 4. |
| - |
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| 5. |
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Just take a pebble and cast it to the sea,
Then watch the ripples that unfold into me, My face spill so gently into your eyes, Disturbing the waters of our lives. Shread of our memories are lying on your grass; Wounded words of laughter are graveyards of the past. Photographs are grey and torn, scattered in your fields Letters of your mem'ries are not real. Sadness on your shoulders like a wornout overcoat In pockets creased and tattered hang the rags of your hope. The daybreak is your midnight; the colours have all died. Disturbing the waters of our lives, of our lives, of our lives, lives, lives, lives... Of our lives. |
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| 6. |
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Just a step, cried the sad man,
Take a look down at the madman. Bearded kings on silver wings Fly beyond reason. From the flight of the seagull, Come the spread claws of the eagle Only fear breaks the silence, As we all kneel, pray for guidance. Tread the room, cross the abyss, Take a look down at the madness. On the streets of the city, Only spectres still have pity. Patient queues for the gallows, Sing the praises of the hallows. Our machines feed the furnace, If they take us, they will burn us. Will you still know who you are When you come to who you are? When the flames have their season Will you hold to your reason? Will you die with your chance? Can you still keep your balance? Can you wake from the nightmare? |
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