Kappaleen sanat
Kappaleesta on työstetty tähän mennessä vain instrumentaaliversio, mutta jos siitä joskus laulettu versio ulos saataisiin, lyriikat olisivat tällaiset.
Part I: The Last Inspiration
Awake
in silent conservatory
making my poetry
or at least searching for inspiration
The full moon
has always been my muse
now it seems to have no use
nothing to tell, no feelings to be shared
More
than able to I have been
searched beauty haven’t seen
written of emotions never felt
But by time
I forgot the real life
stayed on the other side
played the chorus without any break
I would die for better me
would fight until last breath
It’s a fight against the windmills
Why can’t I live in the peace?
Can’t clasp in my arms thee
and ride slowly to the sunset
Part II: The Broken Feather
Since that night I’ve wandered long paths
seen all the colours, heard all the voices
Felt warmth and coldness, hardness and softness,
all the beauty that is still left here
And though I feel no burning fever
to let my heart gallop on the meadows of imagination
I just wish to fall in forever sleep
and in dreams to return to those shining moments
I don’t want to be a playwright any more
I’m exhausted with this role of my own whore
Spending my life making weepy songs in vain
spending my nights being half-awake in pain
I sit in dark room, bright screen in front of me
unable to see any curiosities
Staring at the contrast of black and white,
beauty swinging in the spectacle of light
A dark angel has taken my soul
I can’t see beauty in daylight, no
I’m abandoned with afterlife fears
and only dark angel can dry my tears
My feather typing for the last time:
“For you I dedicate my last rhyme.”
I roll up letter and seal it, too
then take the feather, cut it in two
Part III: Near to Heaven
Many nights have gone past since I left my feather
and each of them I’ve lived like my last ones
Like I had slept for hundred years
and woken more alive than ever
Now I stand on the top of a tower
in forbidden place – just like before
Reaching for the faraway horizon
this time talking not to myself
Everything has been far too well
I feel like I lay in empty shell
Eternal grief is part of personality
without it in my life there’s no sanity
I need to be weak, I need to weep
so that I would be able to feel
If there is no bad, there is no good
So after all, do we have God, too?
I have longed for this pouring rain
I have longed for this pouring rain
Storm is my friend if it’s not seen for days
and flooding water always opens new ways
Art is for my own joy
I want to build, not destroy
Music brings me near to heaven
One day I’ll compose again
Part I: The Last Inspiration
Awake
in silent conservatory
making my poetry
or at least searching for inspiration
The full moon
has always been my muse
now it seems to have no use
nothing to tell, no feelings to be shared
More
than able to I have been
searched beauty haven’t seen
written of emotions never felt
But by time
I forgot the real life
stayed on the other side
played the chorus without any break
I would die for better me
would fight until last breath
It’s a fight against the windmills
Why can’t I live in the peace?
Can’t clasp in my arms thee
and ride slowly to the sunset
Part II: The Broken Feather
Since that night I’ve wandered long paths
seen all the colours, heard all the voices
Felt warmth and coldness, hardness and softness,
all the beauty that is still left here
And though I feel no burning fever
to let my heart gallop on the meadows of imagination
I just wish to fall in forever sleep
and in dreams to return to those shining moments
I don’t want to be a playwright any more
I’m exhausted with this role of my own whore
Spending my life making weepy songs in vain
spending my nights being half-awake in pain
I sit in dark room, bright screen in front of me
unable to see any curiosities
Staring at the contrast of black and white,
beauty swinging in the spectacle of light
A dark angel has taken my soul
I can’t see beauty in daylight, no
I’m abandoned with afterlife fears
and only dark angel can dry my tears
My feather typing for the last time:
“For you I dedicate my last rhyme.”
I roll up letter and seal it, too
then take the feather, cut it in two
Part III: Near to Heaven
Many nights have gone past since I left my feather
and each of them I’ve lived like my last ones
Like I had slept for hundred years
and woken more alive than ever
Now I stand on the top of a tower
in forbidden place – just like before
Reaching for the faraway horizon
this time talking not to myself
Everything has been far too well
I feel like I lay in empty shell
Eternal grief is part of personality
without it in my life there’s no sanity
I need to be weak, I need to weep
so that I would be able to feel
If there is no bad, there is no good
So after all, do we have God, too?
I have longed for this pouring rain
I have longed for this pouring rain
Storm is my friend if it’s not seen for days
and flooding water always opens new ways
Art is for my own joy
I want to build, not destroy
Music brings me near to heaven
One day I’ll compose again
