literature

A-Patter-a-Clop - Lyrics

Deviation Actions

0 Favourites
0 Comments
129 Views

Literature Text

A-Patter-a-Clop



Desert made of cold sand’s rushing
Birds listen to the death thats crushing
Freezing snow on hottest ground
No sore feet here can be found
No spirits, no life
The district never saw a strife
Tones died away to ruins of droning
Not even a quite silent moaning

Here, there, a tripping, going
Here, there, who stays in the sand knowing?
Here, there, a patter, a clop
On music’s grave who’s there on top?
A rhythm simple, slow, fast, tight
Footsteps sounding dull and bright

And slowly, slowly, tenderly
The sun is rising and wants to see
What this stop-start-musician has conceived
Who doesn’t want to see this rapidly
And gently ring open string tones
Without an instrument they sound rushing, dolce, nice to hear
Wherefrom, nobody knows
Then a chant, with texture for many choirs appears

Here, there, a tripping, going
Here, there, who stays in the sand knowing?
Here, there, a patter, a clop
On music’s grave who’s there on top?
A rhythm simple, slow, fast, tight
Tones are sounding dull and bright

Birds like crows, ravens, sparrows
Carrying black cats, flying up like arrows
And a plain and so bright laughter
Mixed with chants from thousand nations
A drum, a loud crack right thereafter
He’s dancing on the brink of the formations
Isn’t life just so lovely
He gives new courage to this scenery

Here, there, a tripping, going
Here, there, who stays in the grass knowing?
Here, there, a patter, a clop
On music’s grave who’s there on top?
A rhythm simple, slow, fast, tight
Tones are sounding dull and bright

And as he passes by
The wizard, minstrel, retriever
On green meadows the sun shines
Oaks grace the path of this achiever
Birds continue to play his tripping song
A teardrop’s falling as the tramp sees what goes on
Published:
© 2013 - 2021 World-of-Fyra
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In