Opeth. Reverie/Harlequin Forest. Zeneszám
Into the trees past meadow grounds
And further away from my home
Baying behind me I hear the hounds
Flock's chasing to find me alone
A trail of sickness leading to me
If I am haunted then you will see
Searching the darkness and emptiness
I'm hiding away from the sun
Will never rest, will never be at ease
All my matter's expired so I run
A trail of sickness leading to me
If I am haunted then you will see
There falls another
Vapor hands released the blade
Insane regrets at the drop
Instruments of death before me
Lose all to save a little at your peril, it's justified
And dismiss your demons as death becomes a jest
You are the laughing stock of the absinthe-minded
Confession stuck in your mouth and long-gone fevers reappear
Nocturnally helpless, weak in the light
Depending on a prayer
Pacing deserted roads to find a seed of hope
They are the trees
Rotten pulp inside, never well
Roots are sucking, thieving from my source
Tired boughs reaching for the light
It is all false pretension, harlequin forest
Awaiting redemption for a lifetime
As they die alone with no one by their side
Are they forgiven?
Stark determination
Poisoning the soul
Unfettered beast inside
Chiming sovereign control
And now the woods are burning
Tearing life-crops asunder
Useless blackened remains
Still pure smoldering
And further away from my home
Baying behind me I hear the hounds
Flock's chasing to find me alone
A trail of sickness leading to me
If I am haunted then you will see
Searching the darkness and emptiness
I'm hiding away from the sun
Will never rest, will never be at ease
All my matter's expired so I run
A trail of sickness leading to me
If I am haunted then you will see
There falls another
Vapor hands released the blade
Insane regrets at the drop
Instruments of death before me
Lose all to save a little at your peril, it's justified
And dismiss your demons as death becomes a jest
You are the laughing stock of the absinthe-minded
Confession stuck in your mouth and long-gone fevers reappear
Nocturnally helpless, weak in the light
Depending on a prayer
Pacing deserted roads to find a seed of hope
They are the trees
Rotten pulp inside, never well
Roots are sucking, thieving from my source
Tired boughs reaching for the light
It is all false pretension, harlequin forest
Awaiting redemption for a lifetime
As they die alone with no one by their side
Are they forgiven?
Stark determination
Poisoning the soul
Unfettered beast inside
Chiming sovereign control
And now the woods are burning
Tearing life-crops asunder
Useless blackened remains
Still pure smoldering