"If I were not a physicist, I would probably be a musician. I often think in music. I live my daydreams in music. I see my life in terms of music." Albert Einstein
Declaración de intenciones
Este blog intenta tener cubiertos al menos dos sentidos del hipotético visitante: la vista y el oído. La vista resulta evidente y el oído se consigue haciendo clic en el título de cada entrada.
Espero que lo disfrutéis.martes, 29 de agosto de 2006
Through her eyes
She never really had a chance
On that fateful moonlit night
Sacrificed without a fight
A victim of her circumstance
Now that I've become aware
And I've exposed this tragedy
A sadness grows inside of me
It all seems so unfair
I'm learning all about my life
By looking through her eyes
Just beyond the churchyard gates
Where the grass is overgrown
I saw the writing on her stone
I felt like I would suffocate
In loving memory of our child
So innocent, eyes open wide
I felt so empty as I cried
Like part of me had died
I'm learning all about my life
By looking through her eyes
And as her image
Wandered through my head
I wept just like a baby
As I lay awake in bed
And I know what it's like
To lose someone you love
And this felt just the same
She wasn't given any choice
Desperation stole her voice
I've been given so much more in life
I've got a son, I've got a wife
I had to suffer one last time
To grieve for her and say goodbye
Relive the anguish of my past
To find out who I was at last
The door has opened wide
I'm turning with the tide
Looking through her eyes
© Dream Theater
Suscribirse a:
Enviar comentarios (Atom)
6 comentarios:
Y yo que aspiraba a descubrirte Dream Theater...
Me hubiera gustado más la frase así:
"Y yo que aspiraba a descubrirte..."
:-P
Es verdad, estoy dudando si sería más importante el descubrimento de Bliss o el descubrimiento de América...
Teniendo en cuenta que el segundo hace mucho que ha sido realizado, ello convierte al primero, si no en algo de similar importancia, sí en algo mucho más alcanzable y... menos fatigoso ;-)
Pues nada, si algún día descubro un continente, lo llamaré Blissica.
Es una pena que Verne no pudiera escribir las "Aventuras de tres rusos y tres ingleses en la Blissica austral".
Tampoco ahora estoy de acuerdo. Me hubiera gustado más que lo llamases Blisseanía, así no hubieras puesto en un brete al pobre Julio... tch, tch, tch...
Publicar un comentario