In tender contempt I reach out to touch myself Pulling myself back, I know too well who I am ...who I am
CHORUS: My worst enemy I've become, so I run and hide from all the chances that I refused I deny that they were mine
I can see what needs to be done but I'm so weak ...oh, so weak I should listen to my advice but I'm so scared ...so scared
REPEAT CHORUS (x2)
I keep to pretend so you won't know But the only one I decieve is myself What do I want to become, what are my needs? I have to believe or I'll be forever lost
(Music: H Johansson/S Zell) (Lyrics: H Johansson )
Softly shaking sunlight, landing like a leaf Wakes the weary wanderer, blessed in belief Grunting gathered gossip, tells a tale of today Wisdom whispered "warning", carefully carrying you on the crest of a wave
Sunlight, the old man's praying gazing upon the clouds A rain that seems as it would never end Struggling with his old tools lived by his fathers rules He sees the remains of his life in debris
And a raven sat on a poplar-branch Sits there waiting for his prey
Pulling, the horse is snorting Ploughing a pit of mud A scanty yield, an effort blistering hands The crop has gone with the rain He wears himself out in vain An old man staring wearied on his lands
And the raven gazed in the old mans eye Then it held a scaresome cry And the old man gazed at the crying sky What a rotten day to die
Oh, it is tearing on his soul Buried deep down in a hole, searching life Oh, he's a feudal system cog At the bottom of the bog there's no life Poor, poor old man the wanderer said Staring heavy eyes of lead Fortold a story from his world He was crying to be heard
Water, his fields are flooded Nothing won for his toil His pity was bailed out by common fear He didn't want to move But nothing was left to prove Sunken in a brown study of tears
Now the raven grabbed for his tortured soul But the old man turned around ...And the gun reflected a rising sun as the bird fell to the ground
Awake with a feeling awake with an image of patterns engulfing my eyes I browse through my memories I float down a passage of darkness in beauty disguise
...we close our eyes...
No time for a reason no time for perception I fly with no sight of the ground A random illusion a wheel of confusion The treadmill is spinning around
...chasing the end...(x2)
We race through a maze of obscured circumspection Ethereal circles contract Disorientation in imagination I fear that we might not come back