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• Artiste: Pickering Pick
• Titre: Verlaine's Lament
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Those millions of words at the start of the song Like a passage through a mountain and oceans and fog The feel of the ground in a town full of hearts That are burning and eaten like lives through the passage of time But it's not that the colors of heaven or hell Could be drawn through the night of this song very well But the wise ??? in the scariest shade When it's empty and gnawed on, and colors are faded and gone It's time for romance and it's probably gone And I left the king lonely in spite of his song That will carry me thousands of miles in a change of a chord For the length of the note that is held very long Fool in the street is the man who assumes That finishing it is arriving too soon And there's hundreds of hours and the life of the tune And the words are all ringing and chiming and breathing Here's to the painter who renders his thoughts so clear Here's to the poet who perpetually holds back a tear Here's to the sad silly music they constantly Here's to the painter who renders his thoughts so clear Here's to the poet who perpetually holds back a tear Here's to the sad silly music they constantly hear