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• Artiste: Turning Plates
• Titre: An Die Musik
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Dusting time, frightened spiders run for your lives, Old is bad, Good is new and I am sad, So I write these songs about how nothing ever gets done, But that's life my friend, do we face it till the end? Don't you wonder my sweet, why I myself mistreat? What I get, singing from my walled-in Minaret, The stones won't hear, the sonnets I wrote for their ears, That's life my dear, Do we face it here? If I knew why in that instant the magic would die, All I've thrown away, in love, in pity, in hate, Is caught in the act, like a thief with guilt on his back, And this life I fear, I elude it hear