ALCHEMIST
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SKU: A0.1012717
Composed by Monica Bergo. Contemporary. Score. 11 pages. Moni Bergo #5743015. Published by Moni Bergo (A0.1012717).Music and song composed by me
The alchemist
Flames in the dark sparkle
voice whispering echoes
They say about you
Sell useless dreams
they say about me that I’m too much frail
You are shutting down the day of this city
the lights switch on of different realities
and time dilates , begins another life
It is tacit ritual of a sad tribes
You firefly who shine
can you tell me where he is?
I seek the alchemist , you see yourself
from my eyes rimmed
on the nothing wide open
they are full of fears and resemble your
And here it is your circus , you wait me already
not much has changed from a lifetime ago
you do not, you are not aged
a Peter Pan sick , who deduct his sins in the lives of others
clown you always have so many , acrobats tired
poised always between dream and reality
and as a cat, I also see in the dark
and over the waste to me slowly and then die
the crises, then anxiety , that imperfect woman
I do not stand me anymore
I who have never been a daughter , your promise of another family
and this need for love, that torture and kill me
While you brush my long hair , from your hands give off crystals
bright lights exploding inside
as if by magic now I belong to you
snakes tattooed lean on your hips
we float in the sea of time
how does I exist? always or yesterday
I do not remember but only mysteries
You adult man and I young girl
abracadabra, as all before
I tired and old and you still a child
us travelers in a bogus time
and while I explore the emptiness I have inside
Nothing is sweeter than this torment
You prepare the potion , the right proportion , the antidote and poison
but you put more passion , My animal instinct
and add a little 'of gall for those who have hurt me
Mix all right , only you know what to do
you seals good my heart , can not serve me
evil plots to good , with fumes and vapors , ampoules almost full ,please ... let me drink ...
But you can not , and I stay here , prisoner of your invisible world
It is being born on the day of this city
Milano colored yourself with its activities
shorten the shadows , the sun shines and a veil hiding now all his vices
and my pace is tired , my face a bit 'more haggard ,emptiness inside me and where are you?
I run always and do not know where I go
I look back , I stumble and then I fall
Slow walk among the tired souls
alive but in a state of apparent death
rips in the soul and on my clothes
I have no tattoos, scars only
and as the salt do on the wounds
I burn at the memory of bad choices
Iron bars are closed . echoes of voices deafen
They say about you that you no longer have a tear
they say about me that I’m free woman ...
Monica Bergo
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