The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
I see guitars catch fire
And stages crumble.
I see the rockstars dance
And the audience clap away from the drumbeat.
Now it sounds like a trash can of sounds,
And I shouldn’t listen to it anymore.
Because we are what we listen to as well.
So I must go home
Before the burning guitar burns their flesh
And into the bones, blood and soul.
I can’t stand it.
I must go home
Without telling the crowd these things would happen.
They won’t listen
And there is not time enough.
I see guitars catch fire
And stages crumble.
I see the rockstars dance
And the audience clap away from the drumbeat.
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