Neil Gaiman, Fourplay String Quartet - The Wreckers lyrics
[Neil Gaiman, Fourplay String Quartet - The Wreckers lyrics]
Huge moments of surprise
That leave you wrecked
The wreckers, on the old, black, Cornish
Rocks (when there was no moonlight
And hard storms pushed the waves and winds to
Treachery) would light their lamps
To lure the
Ships ashore and ships, who thought
That they were safe, and
Lights were there to guide them
Home, would run aground
All hands lost and stolen by the cold sea
To share the good times is to share the
Bad timеs to share the joy in
The finе-wine-times
Is to drink the wine down
To the bottom of the glass
Where things are bitter i will
Not ask for any
Glass to pass from me there are no accidents
(or possibly there are but things happen
Because of their nature and there
Is no arguing with Nature for
She is wise, and innocent
And cruel and rage and hurt and
Pain and blood are hers)
So we build rituals of
Mourning and acceptance, to walk us through
The nights of tears and pain
But Nature lost a daughter
Who remains six seeds of
Pomegranate dead today
Three things I send you first
I send these words
That you may use them as a
Pool of ink, to see yourself reflected, or
See another in to see far-away things
So you do not forget to dream
And then I send you pain, a small pain
To whisper to your pain and keep it
Company and last, I send a smile
That it might serve you well and you may hold
It in a time when smiles are scarce
Remembering the moonlight on the water
That leave you wrecked
The wreckers, on the old, black, Cornish
Rocks (when there was no moonlight
And hard storms pushed the waves and winds to
Treachery) would light their lamps
To lure the
Ships ashore and ships, who thought
That they were safe, and
Lights were there to guide them
Home, would run aground
All hands lost and stolen by the cold sea
To share the good times is to share the
Bad timеs to share the joy in
The finе-wine-times
Is to drink the wine down
To the bottom of the glass
Where things are bitter i will
Not ask for any
Glass to pass from me there are no accidents
(or possibly there are but things happen
Because of their nature and there
Is no arguing with Nature for
She is wise, and innocent
And cruel and rage and hurt and
Pain and blood are hers)
So we build rituals of
Mourning and acceptance, to walk us through
The nights of tears and pain
But Nature lost a daughter
Who remains six seeds of
Pomegranate dead today
Three things I send you first
I send these words
That you may use them as a
Pool of ink, to see yourself reflected, or
See another in to see far-away things
So you do not forget to dream
And then I send you pain, a small pain
To whisper to your pain and keep it
Company and last, I send a smile
That it might serve you well and you may hold
It in a time when smiles are scarce
Remembering the moonlight on the water