Four

Sleeping at Last

Transposer:

[Intro] [Verse] I’m turning out the lights To remember how to see Until a renaissance takes place And resuscitates the color of paint and divinity [Verse] As if God hid the building blocks Of every beautiful thing In this game of hide and seek I can’t help but think that ordinary has swallowed the key [Bridge]   Bodies fashioned out of dirt and dust For a moment we get to be glorious Ice sculptures adorned in light Sand castles built tall in between the tides [Chorus] Maybe I’m hiding behind metaphor Maybe my heart needs to break to be sure One day I’ll wear it all on my sleeve The insignificant with the sacred unique [Verse] But I’ve fallen in love with a ghost And I lost my balance when I needed it most This blurry photograph is proof Of what I’m not sure but it feels like truth [Verse] I’m stuck swimming in shadows down here It’s been forever since I came up for air Flashlight in hand determined to find Authenticity only poetry could even begin    to try to describe [Bridge] Bodies fashioned out of dirt and dust For a moment we get to be glorious             Get to be glorious             Get to be glorious          [Outro] What if we already are Who we’ve been dying to become In certain light I can plainly see A reflection of magnificence Hidden in you Maybe even in me

Du même artiste :

empty heart empty heart Db, Fm, F#, Ebm
empty heart empty heart C, Am, F, G
empty heart empty heart A, Dbm, F#m, E, D, D5
empty heart empty heart G, Em, C, D, F
empty heart empty heart E, B, G#m, F#
empty heart empty heart Am, C, F, G, Dm, Em, Cmaj7
empty heart empty heart Eb, Gm, Bb, F
empty heart empty heart C, Am, G, F
empty heart empty heart F, C, Bb, Dm, F4, Bbmaj7
empty heart empty heart Em, C, G, Am
Cette chanson évoque la quête de la beauté et de la vérité en nous. L’artiste parle d’une renaissance à travers la reconnexion avec la couleur, la divinité et les fondements de ce qui rend la vie magnifique. Il explore l'idée que, dans un monde où l'ordinaire semble dominer, il est difficile de voir notre propre magnificence. Les corps, faits de terre et de poussière, sont temporairement glorieux, et il se demande si nos luttes et notre vulnérabilité font partie intégrante de notre authenticité. Au final, il suggère que peut-être, en nous cherchant, nous découvrons déjà la splendeur qui nous habite.