Steve Von Till : As the Crow Flies

Neo Folk / Etats-Unis
(2000 - Neurot Recordings)
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The reflection of stained glass colors your face
The light of day echoes your skin
Giving summer's beauty the rightness of warmth
These words in your mouth
Bring the sadness of a thousand winters

Confusion builds a fire
The smoke must clear to see and breathe

The magic contained in the braiding of your hair
A spirit entwined in ritual knowing
A gift, a token of the unexplained
A grief that haunts me
To the ends of my mind

Confusion builds a fire
The smoke must clear to see and breathe


When the golden bough breaks
The cradle of civilization
When our island sinks in the sea
Songs of the siren will lure us down

Ashes, ashes, we all fall

When the king is dead
And we ride wild horses
When we climb to the top of the mountain
And come tumbling down

Ashes, ashes, we all fall


Dream through the seasons
Only to remember
Past becomes future
When all's said and done

Your life awaits you


Staring out the window pane
Seeing through yourself
Counting your blessings again
Wondering when it will be
And how it can be then
See the warnings of a storm
As patterns unfold themselves
To try and be whole

Is this too much to ask
To live free with a quiet mind
And trust in someone else
I want to believe in the sun
Who in all its splendor is dying
I desire the solidness of earth
This ground is still shaking apart
What will be, will be


The wind sings alone for the martyr
A man against the age
Many called but few are chosen
Twice born into the gaze

Challenging man made illusion
The truth against the world
Men go to graves with their truth
Still the sun will rise

Surrender mind to the mystery
The seen and the unseen
Sever head from their disgrace
Religions founded and undone


Why can't I rest a while? This unease in my chest
A nauseous burning keeps me awake to swim inside
To consume myself with fears of what I've given
A piece of my breath, and the power to destroy

In this house midheaven, my hopes and dreams are tied
The archer's bow is lifted and takes aim at my heart
Never did I catch sight of the weapon raised
Though it had been woven into my weave of fate


Dawn of mists and mourning
Veil of ancient tears
Near a tree lies a shallow grave
Bones of earth grasping hands
With the roots of the past
Fasting spirits to the land

Chasing shadows in stones
Clouds clear revealing
Awareness of the light
Seeking forgotten longings
Withered pathways to the wise
From a peak I gaze the glory

paroles ajoutées par Bloodorn - Modifier ces paroles