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1. |
Overture
01:46
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People tend to forget
People tend to forgive
Fires burning on Main Street
Harvest moon is bringing all the people on their feet
Colored fish and juggling bees
Nothing feels as it seems
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2. |
Harvest Moon
13:08
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Shades of red, in the town’s square
Come gather round let the children sing
Winter songs,
Come to me and pray for rainy days
Fields of broken shards
Blue moon, crescent, silver lines
Spirits rise
Seasons gathering around them
Feel the Mystic wind
Celebrate
Come and listen to the scarecrows
Come and dance along
Red rose, withered, harvest moon, silent
Would you care, for a little sunshine?
I got some left
in my head
Along with some moonbeams
And some butterfly wings
Or would you rather have
A cup of tea?
Would you smile for the sea and the stars?
For ships that fly
Over fields of blue
Ravens and papers
And songs out of tune
Whispering prayers
On street parades
People tend to forget
People tend to forgive
Fires burning on Main Street
Harvest moon is bringing all the people on their feet
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3. |
Ennui
03:31
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How many mistakes
can fit in one lifetime?
Miracles can happen
Either you’re blind to see or not
The faithful kneel
and sometimes steal
The golden treasure
of childhood’s dreams
The rusty nails
had swollen the hands
Of working men
Who sell their blood
to cold hearted kings
And are worn out
By the never ending hope
One more dizzy day
One more cup of coffee
But you got the nerves
to call me a fool
When was the last time
You came down a mountain
And all you found was dirt?
With your mouth watering lies
And your sweet pathetic eyes
Please don’t feel surprised
When I call you a….mess,
I need to confess,
The Lord had whispered his song
inside my ear
But now the shepherd
lost his flute
And the flock has run astray
An evening dress,
Or even less,
She let you live with promises
And left you die alone…
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4. |
Walpurgi Flame
20:15
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The road is winding
And they take me to my last home
I’ve always known that god is absent
In this world I feel so small
People judging never looking at their sins
Pointing fingers, giving gruesome grins
Endless crowds of unknown faces
Passing me by every day
Always busy always on the run
Each one
A chosen one
A lover, a mother, a sinner or a saint
Scared and lonely, familiar faces
Hunting out gold every day
They need somebody to stand beside them too
Each one a chosen one
A lover, a stranger, someone to hold their hand
My whole existence
A fragile poem of inner flame
All my lords and masters
I’ve met them all and laughed at their face
The words I speak will fall into deaf ears
The song I sing will echo through the years
The weight of the soul
Is measured upon the scale
My skin in transformation
As it turns to red from pale
The shadow of the mountain
Falls upon the stake
And the crescent moon is rising
As I accept my own fate
I have foretold the fire
And the pests in harvest’s time
The winds that swept the country
The crimson king’s high prime
The sigil of the fox
Marks the shadow, marks the flame
The grim but gentle words
Rise the fire, spin the clocks
Nothing comes from Nothing ends in Nothing…
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5. |
The Tower
02:56
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6. |
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Heroes are names of city streets and I drive by
A million procrastinators, living their little lives, and they die
Constantly unpleasant,
Obedient to fate and torn apart
Arrogant spectators
And morally addicted to their past
They watch the fires burning
The art of ending a revolution
The art of fighting for a real solution
The art of smiling when someone is stabbing your back
The art of ending a revolution
The art of fighting for a real solution
The art of waiting and doin’ nothin’ at all
Living the dream in a plastic life and a shining big lie
Sadistic premonitions of a glorious afterlife and they pray and they cry
Beautiful but hollow
Spying through the keyhole of their screens
Apathetic prophets
Preaching for money and for blood
They watch the fires burning
People tend to forget
People tend to forgive
Fires burning on Main Street
Harvest moon is bringing all the people on their feet
The art of ending a revolution
The art of fighting for a real solution
The art of smiling when someone is stabbing your back
The art of ending a revolution
The art of fighting for a real solution
The art of waiting and doin’ nothin’ at all
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Mother Turtle Thessaloniki, Greece
Mother Turtle is a Progressive Rock band from Thessaloniki,Greece. Formed in 2011 as a jam band, influenced by the great
artists of the genre, they try to adapt the different elements of prog rock into their own music, taking advantage of the artistic freedom that prog rock provides. Enjoy the album and
PRAISE THE MOTHER TURTLE !!!
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