Revglow “Sound Post Tension”
Can a scar turn into a butterfly?
A scar is a symbol of pain enclosed within two points, start and finish. The sound post is an Anglo-Saxon word for the vital part of the cello which in Italian is called “anima” or soul: the soul of the cello is a wooden cylinder situated between the belly and the back giving the instrument its pitch, the voice. The weight of the soul can be measured by the depth our footsteps sink into the sand.
I watch the ocean come and go, washing away the footprints, and caress the delicate silence of peace…the choir of the seagulls paint the horizon white, petals of liberty which fall to the ground without leaving a sign. Isn’t this the perfect day to color your spirit as you’ve always wanted to?Foreigners, brethren of this ghost theatre, walk holding white pictures, self-portraits faded in their intimate sense of existence. I wish to see mine, I think, but feel my chest compress with few golden breaths…and then I sense my body drown. Millimeters which become centimeters, gradual absence of gravity mocked by the sky which does not allow me to sleep. I grab the two opposite sides of my soul with my hands and hear the sound pulse, melodies which fly just like anxiety which wants to turn from chrysalis into butterfly. And while waiting for the moment between explosion and rebirth, I close my eyes and hold my breath…
Scars
Just let it go! there’s no more time to waste…Just let it go! there’s no more time to waste…no more.
Just let it go! there’s no more time to waste…Just let it go! there’s no more time to waste…no..Life won’t hurt you life won’t hurt you life won’t hurt you
Anymore… Just let it go!
there’s no more time to waste…Just let it go! there’s no more time to waste…more time to waste…
Strangers
From the windows I see you and think I wouldn’t be like you! A crack unites us and I hear your breathlessness. I was never aware of those tears, I didn’t realize you could also cry while looking at the colorless horizon.
Your gestures are mine, our words are the same, your eyes are mine, our thoughts the same. They looks like strangers, becoming murderers of my thoughts. From the window you see me
and you think you wouldn’t be like me! A blame unites us, but I feel your sharpened blades. I was never aware of those fears, I didn’t realize the window isn’t real, we are living through the same pure reflection
Your gestures are mine, our words are the same, your eyes are mine, our thoughts the same.They looks like strangers, becoming murderers of my thoughts. They looks like strangers, becoming murderers of my thoughts…
Phantom Theatre
You are a shell like all the others, you are the container of the modern world. Failed attempts at giving me plastic gifts, blood of this useless show. Your words fall to the ground as empty as synthetic dew and with total indifference, you judge the color of our soul…
You are a shell like all the others, you are the container of the modern world. Failed attempts at giving me
plastic gifts, blood of this useless show.
Your words fall to the ground as empty as synthetic dew and with total indifference, you judge the color of our soul…Try to run away from this phantom theatre! You are a shell like all the others, you are the container of the modern world. Failed attempts at giving me plastic gifts, blood of this useless show.
Your words fall to the ground as empty as synthetic dew and with total indifference, you judge the color of our soul…you judge the color of our soul…
27
Open the window darling! It’s 5 to 12.00 and my dreams have yet to come. They rock me, they make me crazy but they don’t ever leave me alone…I know this wind is icy but let’s wait a little longer…
midnight isn’t far…I don’t want this to be the start! All of this makes no sense…no sense!
Don’t fall asleep darling
Should this night be the last?
Should this night be the last?
27 minutes past 12.00…
27 minutes past 12.00…
Close the window darling! I don’t want to miss one note of these golden breaths…
This is the Day Chase your fears away ! This is the day you were hoping for…Don’t you find this day is perfect? You have so many smiles to give! Isn’t this is the perfect day to paint your soul as you’ve always wanted to? Isn’t this is the perfect day to paint your soul as you’ve always wanted to?
Pictures left halfway, this is the horizon you see before you…Go and look for the missing colors! and and cry with them…till the end of the day! Isn’t this is the perfect day to paint your soul as you’ve always wanted to? Isn’t this is the perfect day to paint your soul as you’ve always wanted to?
Seagulls Choir
You don’t know how I miss you! I need to go away…..
Petals
I measure the wasted time on the scales you gave me, where has your hope gone?
My thoughts take flight to break through this armor of small black bricks. I fly with this desire to run
with no recalling who I used to be…The mud has become clay by now petals I can now let fall…
The mud has become clay by now petals I can now let fall…
I can hear the melody of my soul finally naked! I can hear the melody of my soul finally naked! I can hear
the melody of my soul finally naked! I can hear the melody of my soul finally naked! Finally naked..
Peaceful
There’s no pleasure!So controlled! There’s no pleasure! So controlled! Where’s the life I must belong? Where’s the gift that I want to receive? Where’s the peace that I should conquer? Where’s the place where I could be peaceful? Where I could be peaceful…
There’s no pleasure!So controlled! Where’s the place where I could be peaceful?
There’s no pleasure! so controlled! Where’s the place where I could be peaceful?
There’s no pleasure!So controlled! Where’s the place where I could be peaceful?
There’s no…there’s no..there’s no pleasure anymore…Hysteria takes control…Hysteria takes control…anymore..takes control…There’s no pleasure!So controlled!…..
There’s no pleasure!So controlled! Where’s the life I must belong? There’s no pleasure!So controlled!Where’s the gift that I want to receive? There’s no pleasure!So controlled! Where’s the peace that I should conquer? There’s no pleasure!So controlled! Where’s the place where I could be peaceful? Where I could be peaceful… There’s no pleasure!So controlled!……
Self-portrait
A self-portrait awaiting a name, dense warmth which springs from the centre of the heart.
I hide and wait never-ending seconds inside paper houses, awaiting the moment I’ll be born again…I’ll be born again!
Let me be the one to sing this melody to you! Let me be the one to sing this melody to you!
This melody to you…My ancient walls gave me the shelter to be fully unconscious as a bubble in the dark.
So I hide and wait never-ending seconds inside paper houses, awaiting the moment I’ll be born again…I’ll be born again! Let me be the one to sing this melody to you! Let me be the one to sing this melody to you! This melody to you..
Butterfly…
