1. |
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The crow wants to fly away
The roots prevent it from leaving
Is the rope the only ending
In a world painted in dark gray?
Oh baby there is no cage
No need for the rage
The ties aren’t no fetter
Life could be better
Tie the rope to my heart
I promise it won’t hurt
It won’t be a burden
Worst things have happen
Just make your mind peaceful
And spin in the air with my soul
Won’t you leave all this doom and gloom
In a forever locked room?
I’ll be the keeper of the key
The one here to make you happy
Your wild heart can’t be tamed
Your eyes seem afraid
But when you feel this anger
Remember you’re not in danger
Oh baby there is no cage.
No need for the rage.
The ties aren’t no fetter.
Don’t you see life could be better?
Will you cut the rope?
Will you tear the roots apart?
And let me fall? (All alone!)
Don’t cut the rope!
Don’t tear the roots apart!
Don’t let me fall! (All alone!)
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2. |
Man Overboard
05:36
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Lost in sea in the night
With a hole in my jacket
No one within hearing
No light within sight
I’m tossed around by waves
Relentless and endless
Man overboard
There’s a man overboard
Slowly drowning
Quietly dying
Abandoned by the ship
I feel a hand in the back
Pushing me down
Pushing me down to the dark
Now I feel under me
Now I feel under me, the sharks
Man overboard
There’s a man overboard
Slowly drowning
Quietly dying
My body is freezing cold
There’s not a wood to hold
The chin under the surface
A scarred look on the face
I now hope for the better
As my head sinks under water
Man overboard
There’s a man overboard
Slowly drowning
Quietly dying
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3. |
The Storm
04:58
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There is a storm approaching
The air is full of electricity
Everything is quiet and peaceful
The calm before the storm
The sun has disappeared
Chased away by raindrops
Away screams the thunder
There is a storm approaching
There is no escape
This is way too late
Now the storm roars
Crushing every little thing
The wind blows in all directions
Unavoidable catastrophe
There will be blood and pain
Deep scars will remain
And we both are prisoners
Of our violent nature
Building our own penitentiaries
Feeding the clouds of our personalities
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4. |
Clouds
06:26
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The moon is gone but the sun is hiding.
The clouds are masking the light.
Like covered by ashes, everything is gray.
The darkness expands over cities, trees and lives.
Some sparks shine like mirrors in the sky.
Sunrays piercing through clouds like flames through smoke.
The twilight only conceals the fire that burns my soul and spirit.
The clouds
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5. |
The Sailor's Blues
08:40
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He was bored of water
Feeling seasick for ever
He got back to the harbor
And hits the road evermore
He enjoyed the soil under his feet
Took pleasure walking on it
The wind was rid of the salt
Laying on a calm asphalt
But very quickly
He felt so lonely
Like he was missing
The most important thing
The ground can’t bring no surprise
No more spark in his eyes
Riding is no travelling
There’s nothing like sailing
And he missed the ocean so bad
That for once he was so sad
And he thought of his lost ship
That he began to worship
But very quickly
He felt so lonely
Like he was missing
The most important thing
A sailor’s place is in the waves
The ground is full of graves
He stopped to struggle
Flew like an eagle
And returned to the sea
The only place he wants to see
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6. |
Dancing With Ghosts
07:32
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Day after day, year after year, you dance.
Skilled and quick you move so easily,
From here to there at a glance.
And trying to stop you is silly.
Incessant choreography.
Tones of an old photography.
Wrapped in a white twirling dress.
By shadows you are oppressed.
You’re dancing with ghosts.
Brushing them and leaving.
You’re dancing with hosts
That a day you were killing.
You’re dancing alone.
Ghosts have not a single bone.
Far away is reality.
You dance alone for eternity.
You’re dancing with ghosts.
Brushing them and leaving.
You’re dancing with hosts
That a day you were killing.
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7. |
Back In The Blizzard
06:37
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Let me tell you a story about a man.
About his travel. His travel through life.
He was struggling in a giant desert for years.
A damn cold desert, a frozen place where nothing lives.
Snowy mountains, frozen path, an infinite trip into the wild.
He kept walking with no other destination than his own death.
His body was still trying when his mind had given up for a long time.
In this ice-cold landscape he finally saw a shelter on a hilltop. It was far away on the horizon but it
gave him strength and will.
He fought so hard to reach it. The way was harsh and long. But he finally got there and warmed his
limbs and heart.
He spent some time there, enjoying his new home. Happy and carefree.
One morning, he noticed a tiny hole in the roof and pretended it wasn’t serious. He thought he could
fix it later.
He remained focused on himself and didn’t pay attention to the house falling into ruin. Piece of wood
after piece of wood. Stone after stone.
One day the building was completely down and he was totally devastated realizing he was back in
the blizzard.
He could do nothing more than continue to walk alone, exhausted, freezing and depressing.
His life finally had been only a spell in the wilderness, a row of failures and mistakes, from beginning
to the end.
Don’t be that man.
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8. |
The End
06:57
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The leaf was bright, not like a life that never was.
The pen has darken it as the pain flowed.
The lead forms letters as blades form scars.
I write on papers my conflicts and inner wars.
I’ve never been able to draw a straight line.
I’ve never been able to make you mine.
Paragraphs after paragraphs, I remember the moments we shared.
This day when, so long, at each other, we stared.
The special smile you’d make when without talking we’d understand.
I remember your hair floating in the air.
I remember the freshness of the breeze, which would blush your nose and cheeks.
And for sure my heart would freeze when you were away for weeks.
Those words are brushes painting our memories.
They are the souvenirs, and witnesses.
Can we forget all this as easily as I’ve crumpled pages?
Can we start over once again like I’ve rewrote some sentences?
Is there still a choice to make? I know it’s too late.
No, everything is finished. Everything is vanished.
It’s written in our book, engraved on our tombstones.
Maybe one day my love, maybe one day we will meet again.
A tear drops on the letter,
Round as a period.
It is time to write “Goodbye”.
I sign, fold the paper.
Close the envelope.
Stand-up, ready for the last departure,
The final journey to the unknown,
End of this story.
Full-stop.
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In The Sight Of Vultures France
In The Sight Of Vultures is a two-piece project. It is dark folk, acoustic blues with beautiful and strong atmospheres.
With members of :
- Cult of Occult
- War Anyway
- Atomic Trip
Contact In The Sight Of Vultures
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