Wolf Ghost :
If Father Time tips his hat to you….
And loneliness hangs on the hooks of your heart,
And puddles well up in your eyes,
And within them, you see only the reflection of your pain,
Listen then and hear your heartbeat,
And find your way “home” on the wings of remembrance.
A thousand and one souvenirs
With hope in our hearts we do steer
Our singular goal is to give
A handle to all that’s elusive.
Or finding the hidden Christmas treat
Falling on ice and ripping your stockings
Blowing out candles at my birthday parties.
As memories they stand
Parcel and part of Szofita Land.
I bring the photographs, I bring each one
For them to dispute the details alone.
Memory creation, oh, this fine art
Each little detail will be a part.
They will decide on what to put where
To make the memories honestly real.
The miracle domes I will prepare
‘Neath my creation a tiny world there
Each dome will be clean and vividly shiny
A home for the secrets they’re fittingly worthy.
Mr. Ping :
I will cast it in silver eternal
Then paint it with plenty of hope-bearing color.
After the hammering, sparkling together
Preserved they will be, all that is treasure.
Chorus:
As memories they stand
As memories they stand
Parcel and part of Szofita Land.
Nen :
This is the place, the figures are done
Formed and fashioned every one.
Stories are readied and many are made
All of the memories here we create.
Chorus:
The season’s very first cherry sweet
Or finding the hidden Christmas treat
Falling on ice and ripping your stockings
Blowing out candles at my birthday parties.
As memories they stand
Parcel and part of Szofita Land.
As memories they stand
As memories they stand
Parcel and part of Szofita Land.
Freddy :
In Szofita Land ! ! !
MUSIC : PACSAY ATTILA
Written by : Szofita
No comments:
Post a Comment