Nocturnal Candescence
We’ve been kindly granted a present
That has been freely bestowed
And forever will stand as a beloved demise
The clay lamp holds a flame
Into a passive murky atmosphere
Faltering its will to sing as melodies are waned
By sullen nocturnal candescence and its prey
Missing urges setting back into stumbling passions
As we let the dancing blooms
Follow the natural current of their ongoing gravitation
The humdrum fall shadows its funeral equinox in old poetries
Borrowing light from summer solstice
To forget that yearning marvels
Can be so ruthless and unmerciful
As we bury our dreamful miscarriage in disregarded dirt
Knowing our suffering ordeals will soon be withdrawn
By another souvenir parading over our neglected ground
We’re confusing leaves, flying high, far away
With layers of our lives
We pull down by grief and other misfortunes
We burn up incense, we light up chancels
We give up on our soul to absolve diffidence
We give up on our soul
We devote our penance, in attrition to doubts
To scorn our outlook, we flog out our designs
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a sign, a word
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a sign, a mark
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a mark, a word
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a sign, a word
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a mark, a word
Rushing wind with tongues of fire, to fall down on our heads
For spirits to give us utterance
Until we forgive the puerility of our lips
For having ever cursed the oblation perfumes
We’ve been kindly granted a present that has been freely bestowed
And forever will stand as a beloved demise
And forever will stand as a beloved demise
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a sign
Words: Alex Henry Foster
Translation to Japanese: Momoka Tobari
That has been freely bestowed
And forever will stand as a beloved demise
The clay lamp holds a flame
Into a passive murky atmosphere
Faltering its will to sing as melodies are waned
By sullen nocturnal candescence and its prey
Missing urges setting back into stumbling passions
As we let the dancing blooms
Follow the natural current of their ongoing gravitation
The humdrum fall shadows its funeral equinox in old poetries
Borrowing light from summer solstice
To forget that yearning marvels
Can be so ruthless and unmerciful
As we bury our dreamful miscarriage in disregarded dirt
Knowing our suffering ordeals will soon be withdrawn
By another souvenir parading over our neglected ground
We’re confusing leaves, flying high, far away
With layers of our lives
We pull down by grief and other misfortunes
We burn up incense, we light up chancels
We give up on our soul to absolve diffidence
We give up on our soul
We devote our penance, in attrition to doubts
To scorn our outlook, we flog out our designs
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a sign, a word
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a sign, a mark
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a mark, a word
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a sign, a word
And we hold on to sorrows, awaiting a mark, a word
Rushing wind with tongues of fire, to fall down on our heads
For spirits to give us utterance
Until we forgive the puerility of our lips
For having ever cursed the oblation perfumes
We’ve been kindly granted a present that has been freely bestowed
And forever will stand as a beloved demise
And forever will stand as a beloved demise
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a sign
Words: Alex Henry Foster
Translation to Japanese: Momoka Tobari
