Even Waves Deserve a Farewell

Stormy weather blowing in from the west
all the while your hand moves along the lines
Desperate for time with a story to tell
you feel the thunder like a whispered poem
& hear the clouds sing of waves from far away
forever travelling in search for a place
where they're welcomed home
where they can die smiling in the sand & know
they'll find no tomorrow morning calling them back
into the lonely circle of farewells
they are running from

Hope is always the last one to leave
but by now even she has fled away
the only thing still breathing is the vision
that something should remain to be found
when the last day turns into the last night

and it's a long time till morning comes again

 

When you're born the travelling kind

You get used to always saying goodbye

It's a sorrowful thing, that's true 

but with so much joy and smiles and happiness before 

I'd rather laugh about what's been had than cry for what's gone

.. wouldn't you?

 

But sure, sometimes it hits me

like a mirror breaking inside 

and all the million pieces 

each represent a goodbye

 

So, as I gather them carefully it's with a unsteady hand

can't really see too well through the tears 

so every time it takes quite some time

to rearrange all the pieces and fit them into my mind

It's like the dark side of the moon, on the track "Time"

You hear all them bells ringing at first

Calling out for everyone to gather

then there's a silence of a vaguely empty kind

just before they start playing

and I believe they did it on purpose

to show us somehow they knew what I know now back then as well

 

Emptiness is a feeling

that comes from the outside

Bells gather, then you spread out

The sound made is the common purpose

the rest is just a game