Song Of Myself - Nightwish ( (192k立体声） )

darknessfalls

芬兰旋律/力量/交响金属乐团Nightwish由Nuclear Blast Records发行乐迷眾所期待时隔4年之久的第七张录音室专辑"Imaginaerum”，芬兰/日本地区将抢先在2011年11月30日上市。12月2日（欧洲其他地区）。专辑在北美地区将由Roadrunner Records发行。

[1. From A Dusty Bookshelf]


[2. All That Great Heart Lying Still]


The nightingale is still locked in the cage

The deep breath I took still poisons my lungs

An old oak sheltering me from the blue

Sun bathing on its dead frozen leaves


A catnap in the ghost town of my heart

She dreams of storytime and the river ghosts

Of mermaids, of Whitman's and the rude

Raving harlequins, gigantic toys


A song of mea song in need

Of a courageous symphony

A verse of mea verse in need

Of a ppure-heart singing me to peace


All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing


All that great heart lying still

In silent suffering

Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end

What is left for encore

Is the same old dead boy's song

Sung in silence

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing


A midnight flight into Covington Woods

A princess and a panther by m side

These are Territories I live for

I'd still give mt everything to love you more


[3. Piano Black]


A silent symphony

A hollow opus #1,2,3


Sometimes the sky is piano black

Piano black over cleansing waters


Resting pipes, verse of bore

Rusting keys without a door


Sometimes the within is piano black

Piano black over cleansing waters


All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing


[4. Love]


I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street,

with a begging bowl in his shaking hand.

Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices.

I do, but walk by.


An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic

It's half-light and he's in tears.

When he finally comes his eyes are cascading.


I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me.

All pride has left his wild eyes.

I wish I had my leg to spare.


A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars.

She's never loved him more.


An obese girl enters an elevator with me.

All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck.

Terribly sweeet perfume deafens me.

She's going to dinner alone.

That makes her even more beautiful.


I see a model's face on a brick wall.

A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill.

A city that worships flesh.


The 1st thing I ever heard was a wandering

man telling his story

It was you, the grass under my bare feet

The campfire in the dead of night

The heavenly black of sky and sea


It was us

Roaming the rainy roads, combing the guilded beaches

Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn

Bathing in places no-one's seen before

Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island

Clad in nothing but the surf - beauty's finest robe


Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature

In early air of the dawn of life

A sight to silence the heavens


I want to travel where life travels,

following its permanent lead

Where the air tastes like snow music

Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden

I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture

I would bathe in a world of sensation

Love, goodness and simplicity

(While violated and imprisoned by technology)


The thought of my family's graves was the only moment

I used to experience true love

That love remains infintie,

as I'll never be the man my father is


How can you "just be yourself"

when you don't know who you are?

Stop saying "I know how you feel"

How could anyone know how another feels?


Who am I to judge a priest, beggar,

whore, politician, wrongdoer?

I am, you are, all of them already


Dear child, stop working, go play

Forget every rule

There's no fear in a dream


"Is there a village inside this snowflake?"

- a child asked me

"What's the colour of our lullaby?"


I've never been so close to truth as then

I touched its silver lining


Death is the winner in any war

Nothing noble in dying for your religion

For your country

For ideology, for faith

For another man, yes


Paper is dead without words

Ink idle without a poem

All the world dead without stories

Without love and disarming beauty


Careless realism costs souls


Ever seen the Lord smile?

Allt he care for the world made Beautiful a sad man?

Why do we still carry a device of torture around our necks?

Oh, how rotten your pre-apocalypse is

All you bible-black fools living over nightmare ground


I see all those empty cradles and wonder

If man will never change


I, too, wish to be a decent manboy but all I am

Is smoke and mirrors

Still given everything, may I be deserving


And there forever remains the change from G to Em