Bluebells
Quelle: Spotify
Dancing on the feet of a miracle
While winter's growing cold
Life seems almost cynical
In the gardens of green and gold
While the apples of eden are calling me
I sometimes just can't believe
That man was made a replica
Of someone elses dream
Away to where the rainbow's just a stoney throw away
Where kings and queens assemble, just to greet the world and say:
Bear witness to the princess as she lights her precious dome
And bluebells call you home
Home, home, bluebells calling home
Home, home, bluebells calling--
Home to all the broken melodies
Is a home for all the sunny skies
To rhyme without a reason endlessly
Just look at how the butter flies
When the evensong sing through the mezzanine
And the birds interrupt the trees
They were talking in the forest hatching up a scheme
When winter comes they'll up and leave
To find the swirling oceans made of conscience and of clay
The weight of all this nonsense we must carry down the way
Towards the great reunion of the apple and the crow
Come on it's time to go...
Home, home, bluebells calling home
Home, home, bluebells calling home
Home, home, bluebells calling home
Home, home, bluebells calling home
Tell the tree of sunlight, tell the day of rain
Listen for the flutter, rising up again
Better off without a suitcase is the mind
Grasping at a moon beam, counting out the time
I was only eight when magic touched my ear
Now it seems the only thing I hear
Is the everlasting chorus of a neverlasting dream
Locked inside my fantasy
So listen up campers along with the rain
The promise of sunshine again
With all that is pretty and all that is blue
The bluebell shines for you
Now somebody sold my blank endeavour
To the creatures that walk on the moon
In time you'll see the world at the speed of light
As we all set stones in bloom
Home, home, bluebells calling home
Home, home, bluebells calling home
Dancing on the feet of a miracle
While winter's growing cold
Life seems to be almost cynical
In gardens of green and gold
Dancing on the feet of a miracle
While winter's growing cold
Life seems to be almost cynical
In gardens of green and gold
The light has come to free this song of anything that goes
The featherless magician shakes his head and tells us slow
The poet down on main street can't believe his sunken eyes
A calling from the skies!
I've never seen a brighter sun
Than the one the crow incorporated
Into his painted rivers three
As the apple reunites the broken melody
Blue is my direction home
Into a world where every ghostly figure
Flutter round the cosmic tare
As we're dancing on the feet of miracles everywhere--
Where do flowers go, when all is said and done
They hope and pray, to find a second sun
With golden shores, and amber painted skies
Where poets run, and bluebells call home...
I've never seen a better day
Than the one that drove the clouds away
Forever from this holy earth
And the bluebells simple words just resting in the dirt
And finally it seems to me
This has got to be the place indeed
I'm just sitting in the gardens green
Watch the blue above and simply dream...
My dreamy dream
Where do flowers go, when all is said and done
They hope and pray, to find a second sun
With golden shores, and amber painted skies
Where poets run, and bluebells call home...
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