Nightglory

Many years ago a child was born in a cage filled with senseless scorn

and the first day he went to school he soon realized he had to do with fools.

All of the classmates had no doubts at all, he was a real danger for such brillian club.

So, after a while the teacher too began to cut him off from her cool classroom.

And the lawns were flowering in the magic springtime air

no one could ever imagine that the grey hand of despair

was about to take our hero in its arms and after that

the world wouldn't have been the same any longer, any more.

I remember that a little girl went on the swings

and the horizon was a legend flood with flaming rays.

Every echo, every whisper had a charming point to show off,

but a twist of fate laid in ambush in that enchanted world.

After some time the boy realized music was the only thing

able to drive his days to that shiny wonderland

he was dreaming about... in his battered bed.

So he started writing bizarre tunes,

months and years were passing under the fair moon,

while squirrels and fireflies scampered 'round

and the boy was setting his debut show for ’em, proud.

Then, one day, the lizard postman rang at the door bell,

finally an agreement came from a major

and you can easily imagine how happy the child was,

all his efforts went to get... such a glittering snappy award!

After a few years a bad sensation gained ground

was it just a nightmare or a merciless bell's sound?

He realized that all the members of his label had worn a mask

as in real they were the guys he met in the schooldays past.

So he kiled them all in a good mood,

then he got back to the magic wood.

Every night a song from the death row...

squirrels, fireflies and the young girl didn't let him alone

Singing "I'm not sorry, I'm not sorry at all"

while they're waiting with a tender smile their last dawn.

My days like a star.

My days like a scar.

Driving to a river torn by scary waves

in a weirdly shiny yet distressing day

a dark amen is singing for a rank of clouds

an a lazy freeway waiting for the moon.

My days like a star.

My days like a scar.

Going to cast an eye around and through the mist

I can hear a wiseman calling from the hills.

Just anothersaviour makes my life so rich

Filling all my nightmares with his sales pitch.

Oh Lord, just arrived.

Oh Lord, keep my head cool.

Here the journey is coming to a very end,

I can see you all, clowns, waiting just for me.

How could I forget all your smart advice,

how could I forget the concerts I have done,

how could I forget the glory you granted me

but the time has come you're trembling on the ground,

digging your own grave

an a nameless ground.

Somebody whispers, somebody insinuates,

somebody is writing, somebody calls,

somebody needs, somebody cries,

somebody is weeping, someone is naughty,

somebody has tantrums, someone looks wicked,

someone wants to become wicked as hell,

someone want revenge, someone likes,

someone has a nickname, someone hides himself.

Sweet haughty eyes were looking at everlasting lands

stampedeing people around had no effect at all.

A last day in this garden, a last enchanted wine,

the colourds and the shadows they couldn't see in a whole life.

And now you call are turning to soulless sketches again.

Meanwhime the garden shines...

most beautiful abyss of wet consoling anguish.

No word could ever explain, no word could ever tell you

where this boy is coming from.

Somebody has tantrums, someone looks wicked,

someone wants to become wicked as hell,

someone want revenge, someone likes,

someone has a nickname, someone hides himself.

Someone hates justice, someone likes to write great sentences

protected by false democracy's anonimity.

And now you call are turning to soulless sketches again.

Meanwhime the garden shines...

most beautiful abyss of wet consoling anguish.

No word could ever explain, no word could ever tell you

where this boy is coming from.

No picture could ever show off his girl's blinding beauty.

Their wings are flapping slowly, their hands are getting close.

Some final raindrops start falling on paralyzed grass.

Some final raindrops start falling on a new silence world.

The evening trees were waving,

were waving in the breeze.

I can't forget the candles,

ascetics by the sea.

A name is coming to mind

a child denied to smile,

he was aware he'd have taken

the law into his hands.

And in the darkest hours

a butcher in the death row

asleep, he keeps on saying

"I killed the serpents' king".

Silence takes over the garden now

all I see goes up in flames.

After all, this couldn't be my life,

despair burns my victim's lies.

I love your name, I love your voice,

I love your smile, I love your words

I love the loneliness you held

I love the strenght your sorrow hides

I love your might, I love your will

I love your eyes so filled with pain

I love the kingdom you come from

and I don't feel shame anymore.

Only your memento still aglows

all I see will be destroyed.

I love your courage, love your wrath

I love the rage behind your face

I love your spirit and your soul

I love the Treasure you died for.

In every moment of my life

in every insult from the fools

I love the Glory you showed me

the Cup of sacrifice you filled.

An eagle flies in the dull skies while rain is telling cheering lies

in another actor's film while still keeping hands on me.

You made me see the stars, such tempting sirens of weird times...

Yes, you're waiting for a further miracle.

Take me where such crises born

A Frame to say goodbye and the die is cast

while the dark hour is shining on

where the sun cannot rise

To my lost morn...

I must go

while the darkest hour is marking time in a slow rhythm

Shine on where the sun cannot rise

A frame to say goodbye and the die is cast

To my lost morn, I must go

Now, rise up

kill the onlookers, sweep their stories away,

eat their soul, burn the skyline,

bring my enemies' corpses to my world

A glory sky still shines and rain turns into a piercing cry

I would like to close my eyes while my only ally is dying

Tell my Lord I have tried, just in vain

Tell my Lord

Take me where The Dream comes true,

my wings are flying towards my death and now

at my new hate I kneel down.

Once upon a time,

there was a shark swimming in the immense ocean.

One fine day, the shark decided to tear his fangs away.

He didn't love to look like all of the other sharks surrounding him.

He was fierce and strong enough even without fangs.

From then on, the other sharks are keeping away from him.

They don't know whether they'd better killing him directly

or simply jeering at him, but... it's a given that they're afraid of him.

So they're still swimming around him, waiting for his death,

while trying to make his life difficult more and more.

One day, when he's dead, they'll spit on his corpse. One day.

Meantime, those fanged shars love to sing a song titled

"We don't need any heroes"

and such a song is climbing up the official shark-charts.

Heroes are totally unknown to sharks...

You know, all sharks love blood, only.

In fact, nobody knows of the existence of a shark-hero...

Nobody could...