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lyrics

Dreams of a night of which I know the end,
it's not a very blisfull end.
Doors that not open to this body behind,
they have not one less use to find.
And while what's happening is happening,
your senses will scream: What am I doing here?

Out from a starting point, fresh from the source,
not one dull ingredient more.
Among many roads you have had free to choose,
so why the path that brings you close.
And while what's passing is passing,
our senses will scream: What are we doing here?

A black star is falling into my gist.
I can hear the laughing trees.
So feel, be aware, sit your soul by the brink.
Let them think you reflect their ill.
And while what's dying keeps dying,
your mind and heart will scream: what will I ever be?

credits

from Legends of a singular blue, released January 16, 2024

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Music Illness Cash-machine Budapest, Hungary

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