The Wind (part 1)

Lyrics: Vangelis Kratsas Music: Vangelis Kratsas + A.I. From the record "Swans in the Red Lake". https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLftlqpQ83Ij1c9oFnb1tLxollAxRgOa73 Listen to the Wind as it blows on your face, listen to the clock ticking, counting the days, open your heart, let nature find a place, listen to the Wind as it blows on your face. This man who smiles is seeking you for ages, don't let him open your precious blank pages, he'll touch your senses if he comes too close, but you'll make him cry if you steal his red rose. And the sad boy looking at heaven's bridge, he will fly away like an instant breeze, watch his mother sleeping in her bed of time, seasons change, you must open up your mind... The machines that keep you alive are broken and your days of pleasure are somehow stolen, but the keys to freedom are still on their chain and till the end, that's the place where they will remain. We must love each other in the same herd, sing the song of life and never get scared, nature holds our hands till we let them go, and start building our death in the civilization show. Since the army of angels met the priests of doom, every small dark corner in our private room, knows the truth we sometimes run away from, though we realize we can't hide it for long. Listen to the sea and the angry waters, kiss the tired father with the seven daughters, play each game with its own unique rules, if you get stuck, remember, life gives the clues. The Gods of Kindness and the Gods of Evil dance, with Dionysus in the middle, and men, like little Gods themselves, dance to the rythm of forgetfulness... The blue magic carpet calls you for a ride, up there, the world is a perfect sight, tiny men, they make tiny mistakes, they are so insignificant they don't even have names. And the night covers every vow we break, its silent veil the angels make, is the best protection for our tortured hearts, from the day we are born to our final part. Listen to the Wind as it blows on your face, listen to the clock, ticking, counting the days, second by second, hour by hour, till a black girl screams from the midnight tower. To save this girl you must give your soul to the spirits waiting in the mythical Hole, where entrance is free but exit is forbidden, and the last two lovers lie there safely hidden. The Jew protects them from anger and hatred, this place is warm, this place is sacred, goodbye my friends, I'll miss you all, but I cannot miss this final call. I hear nightingales sing the song of fate, blow wind, blow, before it's too late.