MEMORIES IN BLACK AND WHITE

(v. piccolo)

Fingers caressing between black and white
Eyes closed in a dream about memories
Another day another town, and some more faces getting caught
Within the secret sound of timeless melodies.

His hands seem to know what his words have forgotten
Maybe it’s just time to follow them
Because he’s lost, lost in this silence of music
And he will get nowhere with this Mozart’s requiem

But he keeps playing and playing, he looks like a man in a broken carillon
Like he’s out of control.
And he’s swirling those notes as they pass through his soul.
And you can see by his face, that he’s left all his past, that he’s beyond where we are.   

He’s Swedish, no he’s French, or from a far place in the east
He’s a rock star, and who the hell can guess his age
“I swear I know him, I know him”, the roman mime was sure
We shared the same street, our common stage

But don’t try and ask him his name, he will draw you a piano
And his look won’t sparkle ’til he’ll be touching the keys
Well I don’t know, I don’t know if forgetting is so wrong
But if I lose my mind I want to lose it like this

And keep playing and playing, I want to look like a man in a broken carillon
Like I’m out of control.
And while he swirls all those notes as they pass through his soul
I can see by his face, that he’s left all his past, there he’s beyond where I am.