1. |
Onward Toward Morning
08:58
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2. |
Approaching The Silence
07:15
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V1:
Collecting rust, your life's formed a barrier to joy
Preceding dust, your life's far anterior to Adam's boys
Adam's boys - boys - boys
Golden rods of past content
Shimmer in our eyes
Living sod you must repent
Give up your sacred sighs
Give up your sacred sighs
C:
Approaching the Silence
Covering the thrall of time
Realizing no fence
Fables never harbored heaven's chimes
Youth upon its brow, happiness fading
Sifting through 22,000 sunsets, blindly
When you've spent it all, and you feel the fall
Approaching the Silence
V2:
Withering bones listen for the hollow winds of time
Let it be shown, tomorrow gates shall rise above
All time - time - time
Basking in tomorrow's shine
You felt you grasped the sun
Asking always, asking time
Can happiness be won
Will happiness be won
© 2016
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3. |
The Beggar And I
09:11
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V1:
Through the fields of a red harvest sky
Scarecrows capture the wind
A figure in rags, a life to be tilled
The broken hearts guild fills his sighs
And I turn awry from this beggars call
What have I to do with thee
Crawl in your crag oh porcelain eyes
The story of the Beggar and I
The story of the Beggar and I
C:
Sacred mirrors going down
Silent tears coming 'round
Tilling the mist like some old tortured sorceress
Burning your fist in this wretched world's poured caress
V2:
Through the din of imagined old lore
Focusing the heart on it's doom
Someday maybe I'll find wings to soar
Purging this self-imposed gloom
Calling the sun - lighting my way
Eclipsing the ephemeral sky
Charging me from the abandoning fray
Sorry but the Beggar was I
Sorry but the Beggar was I
© 2016
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4. |
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V1:
Chantings from the hollow hearken
An abyss overflows its shores
Spilling creatures in the night
A reddened sky is dripping
An Englishman is sipping tea
His wearied face is turning white
V2:
Peasants in the pasture fallen
harvesting the royal purse
A jester serenades the king
Voices from the field are rising
If we only had some wings
With our own hands - we'd curse the king
V3:
Mystical forestings rapture an old man
Misting atmospheres fall him with dew
Sacred pages crumble from their stone
Fastened eyes on forsaken cities
Stratagem symphonies endure the duel
Questioning yesterday's rain - Have we grown
Have we grown
Have we grown
© 2016
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