The Wave

Inläggen på denna blogg dyker upp alltmer sällan, men min förhoppning är att kvalitén väger upp detta. Här kommer en liten låttext jag författade på sommarjobbet idag. När tankeutrymmet blev stort i frånvaron av arbetsuppgifter började jag fundera på det här med tro och att resan kanske ibland är målet. Ja, resten får läsaren själv tolka…

The Wave

They tell you not to sink into believing
Time is a precious thing you know
But don’t think it’s simply deceiving
Trees and flowers needs light to grow

The untrue is a truth in itself
And to the fairy this world is the tale
A tale of laughter, tears, joy and sorrow
And so a shelter from the pain of tomorrow

So call for your hero that maybe will come
Look out to sea, there’s a new wave coming on
Isn’t it beautiful, my son?
The wave that’s coming on

So the drunken tinker told another fib
And then he sank deeper in his sigh
While a newborn baby cried out in his crib
Bartender counted; tinker, tailor, soldier, spy

But the gathered will remember all he said
When the world goes down in thousand degrees
And that baby may let him rest his weary head
When the fire sweeps our plains and galleries

So call for your hero that maybe will come
Look out to sea, there’s a new wave coming on
Isn’t it beautiful, my son?
The wave that’s coming on

Everything might have came to be in a flash
And that everything may stand to human perceptions
But that it’s a needle exploiting air from the tales
Is just one of nature’s greatest deceptions

So call for your hero that maybe will come
Look out to sea, there’s a new wave coming on
Isn’t it beautiful, my son?
The wave that’s coming on

 

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About milkaddiction

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