The Poet And The Pendulum (Live) - Nightwish

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The Poet And The Pendulum (Live)

Đóng góp: duongthanhhoian

[Part 1: White Lands Of Empathica]

The end
The songwriter's dead
The blade fell upon him
Taking him to the white lands
Of Empathica
Of innocence

[Part 2: Home]

The dreamer and the wine
Poet without a rhyme
A widow writer torn apart by chains of Hell.

One last perfect verse
It's still the same old song
Oh Christ, how I hate what I have become.

Take me home.

Get away, run away, fly away
Lead me astray to dreamer's hideaway
I cannot cry 'cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for this cold world
Forgive me
I have but two faces
One for the world
One for God
Save me
I cannot cry 'cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for this cold world.

My home was there and then, those meadows of heaven
Adventure-filled days
One with every smiling face.

Please, no more words
Thoughts from a severed head
No more praise
Tell me once my heart goes right.

Take me home.


[Part 3: The Pacific]

Sparkle my scenery
With Turquoise waterfall
With beauty underneath
The ever free.

Tuck me in beneath the blue
Beneath the Pain
Beneath the rain
Goodnight kiss for a child in time
Swaying blade my lullaby.

On the shore we sat and hoped
Under the same pale moon
Whose guiding light chose you
Chose you all.

"I'm afraid, I'm so afraid
Being raped, again and again, and again
I know I will die alone but loved.

You live long enough to hear the sounds of guns
Long enough to find yourself screaming every night
Live long enough to see your friends betray you.

For years I've been strapped unto this altar
Now I only have three minutes and counting
I just wish the tide would catch me first and give me
A death I always longed for."

[Part 4: Dark Passion Play]

2nd robber to the right of Christ
Cut in half - infanticide
The world will rejoice today
As the crows feast on the rotting poet.

Everyone must bury their own
No pack to bury the heart of stone
Now he`s home in hell, serves him well
Slain by the bell, tolling for his farewell.

The morning dawned upon his altar
Remains of the dark passion play
Performed by his friends without shame
Spitting on his grave as they came.


"Today, in the year of our Lord, 2005
Tuomas was called from the cares of the world
He stopped crying at the end of each beautiful day
The music he wrote had too long been without silence
He was found naked and dead
With a smile in his face, a pen and 1000 pages of erased text."

Save me.

[Part 5: Mother And Father]

Be still, my son
You`re home
Oh when did you become so cold?
The blade will keep on descending
All you need is to feel my love.

Search for beauty, find your shore
Try to save them all, bleed no more
You have such oceans within
In the end, I will always love you.

The beginning.

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