lirik lagu tired eyed moon – benjamin torrens
[verse 1]
sometimes
i feel though the moon is tired eyed
helpless, hung up in the skies, skies
only to be drowned in fires
[verse 2]
sometimes
the oak is sick with coloured lies
a light bulb to these careless flies
only to be burned in white
[chorus]
and i’ll take another stone (i’ll take another stone)
and fall below (and fall, and fall below)
[?]
it’s not my own
[harmonisation]
[first monologue]
your time is everlasting
the child within me says
as i stare out of the window
through my claustrophobic head
the weight of all the could*haves
pressing down upon my spine
with an echo of frustration
to yourself you must be kind
but i can’t, i think
with angry acid gnawing at my bones
when kindness is a language seeked and buried
trapped by stone
an uncomfortable persistance hisses
*”you were never meant to live”*
until another voice offers an alternative
*”forgive” *
now time’s not so fearsome
but a treasure to be told
when instead you choose to live
inside each moment that unfolds
[verse 3]
sometimes
i feel though the moon is tired eyed
helpless, hung up in the skies, skies
only to be drowned in fires
[verse 4]
sometimes
the oak is sick with coloured lies
a light bulb to these careless flies
only to be burned in white
[chorus]
and i’ll take another stone (i’ll take another stone)
and fall below (and fall, and fall below)
[?]
it’s not my own
[harmonisation]
[second monologue]
weigh me down with the bar on my shoulders
this excess is too much to carry
your feather is a stone to me
the beautiful high*rise is just a fallen tree
blue is green and red is black
the sea is a place that joy now lacks
of taking shots out in the dark
longing for an orange morning, or a shallow spark
[verse 5]
sometimes
i feel though the moon is tired eyed
helpless, hung up in the skies, skies
only to be drowned in fires
[verse 6]
sometimes
the oak is sick with coloured lies
a light bulb to these careless flies
only to be burned in white
[chorus]
and i’ll take another stone
and fall below
[?]
it’s not my own
[harmonisation]
[third monologue]
whose heart was turned to stone
and mine again on hold
standing hard on the edge
greens turned greys
winter light dimmed
my voice too loud for listening
together laughter was lost
and joy became memory
there was a new song waiting to be song
begun on the first days of our love
a song of flight and of beauty
but dawn does break
and spring does sing
and tides do turn
and ships do sail
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