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All as Before
Pop/Ballad • Lírico: Monica Bergo
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Instrumentação |
Piano |
Tipo de composição |
For a single performer |
Editora |
Monica Bergo |
idioma |
Italiano |
Music and song composed by me, dedicated to my dad
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ta1I2XJrTyA
ALL AS BEFORE
Tired flower bends
the head photos in carved marble
sad smell of the past along your tree-lined avenue
how much peace in this place
where you stand hidden
cobwebs on your time and the scent of regret
while I touch your beautiful face
I ask myself who decided that your time would stop and that for you all would be over
I, minstrel of my time, tell a thousand stories
chronicles written in pencil real-life stories
story now finished my fingers still drive,
find notes and then the enchantment to disperse them in the wind
there was a king in love, by a bewitched spell,
with the madwoman his queen and everything comes back as before
there tucked away in a corner
There is a pathetic clown
Look closer: it’s a little girl and everything comes back as before
You clown what would you do?
You want to approach the king and then you want to tell him of her polluted heart
but him, he does not want to be touched and you have to amuse her
smile and do not tire continue your ... dance ...
in the void and silence
suspended in time
for your queen and everything comes back as before
before your leap
do you want to fly high
mixed-up Icarus you have fallen into emptiness
the beating of the heart makes too much noise
rumbles here within into emptiness and silence
no, do not love me,
now or ever and hang on till the ultimate pain
she'll pressure you and insinuate herself into your mind and end by doing you harm
but I invisible to your eyes and I want to hug you,
you do not want
I would like to tell you what you do not know of me
and then on swings of fantasy
my hand close to yours
we'll soar to the heights where she is not there
if you want I will reinvent myself for you
And I may please you ,I know
but with your eyes you’ve already answered me and hidden I'll go ..
The winter does not end
the cold seems eternal
here the sun dies ,effaces itself and then disappears
Once upon a time there was or still is, who knows
a minstrel that no longer has a court
and he belongs to nobody, and no one will stop him
while closing the door ,the king will delete him
abracadabra here in my Kingdom
nothing caresses, no kiss of goodby
my name in history was written in pencil
to be able to delete from a faded page
the mind has its woodworm and you can not heal it
past, present and she who reigns everywhere
pages of your life flowing through my fingers
for a king, tired and sick,
who has not had a happy ending
the spell is broken and now the veil has fallen
regret makes its way into him and the minstrel would approach him
puppet in love ,now disconnected from your wires
seek your child and there is nothing like before
there is the sunset in your eyes
but I'm here by your side
a daddy and his little girl and there is nothing like before .... .....
the beating of the heart makes too much noise…
Monica Bergo
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