melodic stanzas
are symphonizing their way
through your weary head
to feed your distrust
and fill it's mouth with the desire
to soulfully be one with your creation
not a subject to control
you call upon a higer power
for help and inspiration
the crowd waits
and turns their faces
towards you expectantly
you give them what they need
but their useless criticism
makes you die
a bit more inside
not a subject to control
you call upon a higer power
for help and inspiration
oh, i swoon
while loudspeakers play soft music
leaning
over your fourtieth masterpiece
you must have loved
the colour of these violins
i wish i knew you
your fit of insanity makes me sad
i wish you knew
your music was to stay forever
and i hope....
i have no clue
if you know how much it matters
and i hope.... |