The nightingale is still locked in the cage The deep breath I took still poisons my lungs An old oak sheltering me from the blue Sun bathing on it's dead frozen leaves
A catnap in the ghost town of my heart She dreams of storytime and the river ghosts Of mermaids, of Whitman's and the ride Raving harlequins, gigantic toys
A song of me a song in need Of a courageous symphony A verse of me a verse in need Of a pure-heart singing me to peace
All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angel wing
All that great heart lying still In silent suffering Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end What is left for encore Is the same old dead boy's song Sung in silence All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angel wing
A midnight flight into Covington Woods A princess and a panther by my side These are territories I live for I'd still give my everything to love you more
A song of me a song in need Of a courageous symphony A verse of me a verse in need Of a pure-heart singing me to peace
All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angel wing
Now all that great heart lying still In silent suffering Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end What is left for encore Is the same old dead boy's song Sung in silence All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angel wing
[3. Piano Black]
A silent symphony A hollow opus #1, 2, 3
Sometimes the sky is piano black Piano black over cleansing waters
Resting pipes, verse of bore Rusting keys without a door
Sometimes the within is piano black Piano black over cleansing waters
Resting pipes, verse of bore Rusting keys without a door
Sometimes the within is piano black Piano black over cleansing waters
All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angelwing
All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angelwing
[4. Love]
I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street, With a begging bowl in his shaking hand. Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices. I do, but walk by.
An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic It's half-light and he's in tears. When he finally comes his eyes are cascading.
I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me. All pride has left his wild drooling eyes. I wish I had my leg to spare.
A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars. She's never loved him more.
An obese girl enters an elevator with me. All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck. Terribly sweeet perfume deafens me. She's going to dinner alone. That makes her even more beautiful.
I see a model's face on a brick wall. A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill. A city that worships flesh.
The first thing I ever heard, was a wandering Man telling his story It was you, the grass under my bare feet, The campfire in the dead of night, The heavenly black of sky and sea.
It was us, Roaming the rainy roads, combing the guilded beaches. Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn, Bathing in places no-one's seen before, Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island, Clad in nothing but the surf - beauty's finest robe.
Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature, In early air of the dawn of life, A sight to silence the heavens.
I want to travel where life travels, Following it's permanent lead. Where the air tastes like snow music, Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden, I would pass