Artless is my trade: looking at the light, a tune arrives at once - I cull the choicest lines. But every single night when the star shines out I hear the dash of waves that comes from out of sight. My road is longer than this trail behind and I remember that which was shown to me: the light of distant stars for those who chose to flee, a montane city skyline in the wraith of white. And electricity is looking gimlet-eyed into my face to get my voice out. My answer's: "Who's seen the city will not be needing your ring tonight". It's too soon for a circus, too late for starting out the movement to the Holy Land. We're trailing along so slowly like ripples of melting wax. There's no point to continue. Hi there, children of colourless days. If only I were a Liver bird flocking her fledgelings I'd take you along with me If only I had been... In every house there's a window up, you can step outside from whichever door. But if your walk of life is to imprint the paving where will you go when it starts to snow? And electricity is looking gimlet-eyed into my face to get my voice out. My answer's: "Who's seen the city will not be needing your ring tonight".Edit
A solo acoustic version, the last piece on 'ÁÃ: Ñòèõè, ïåñíè - 1984' is good.