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• Artiste: Elevator To Hell
• Titre: The Cloud
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Moving painting of the girl, Red velvet drapes around her head, One grey cloud behind the red, One black tree which seemed to be dead. The girl with the glance in her eyes, Looked over to a piece of the sky, Where the clouds in the shape of a face, Moved closer at a slow, smooth pace. The face in the sky wasn’t me, And he told her to look at the tree, Were so high that if she could climb it, Could teach her to help you to find it. But the cloud didn’t say what she’d find, So she glanced toward me with her eyes, She said it was me and I spoke of the tree, But I told her the cloud must divide. Slightly surprised though expected, With thunder and crashes of light from my head. I said for what she thought was me he said, Short gray years without an end. Then a long cloud had left, Eating the sprays until she forgot the rest. It was for the best, it was for the best, It was for the best.