Document - Glipse of faith
En gammal text som jag dammat av, dels av nostalgiska skäl, men också på grund av Whoas generösa lagringsutrymme som tillåter mig spara denna i en tryggare databas. Hoppas på mycket kritik!
A marked old man walks in to a streetcorner bar/
his black eyes tells us he´s traveled really far/
single malt on the rocks is directed as an order/
his entrence made everyones eyes act like recorders/
he encounters a chair next to the frostycold window/
the pooring rain reminds him of the visiting rainbow/
every zip from his drink seem to change his expression/
sat down at his table filled with som kind of effection/
hey stranger, what are you doing here so late?/
he answered, by telling me he´d been brought in by fate/
the scar on his left eye told a story on it´s own/
his eyes never met mine, but I could tell he was alone/
the vision mirrors secrets of the soul, i´ve been told/
curiosity made me wan´t to know, why he´d become so cold/
he ignored me for a minute or two and then he said/
"you should be outside living your life, instead,/
of talking to a poor old man who´s haunted by death"/
The intencety from his answers almost stole my breath/
It questioned my questions as if I was speaking to my self/
I soon realized, it wasen´t him, but me, who needed help/
The evening was followed by an ever so living night/
this wasen´t right, like as if it had awoken the moonlight/
His heavy arm lifted up the third drink he´d been served/
the jukebox played a motownsong that I never played or heard/
I asked him about the marks that painted his face/
it had become a map of history to orientate him trough days/
He looked at me and said he´d once came to close to vanity/
the change of personality, was something i´d identify as insanity/
but he tied up the strings and mastered the closeure to/
every subject he touched, left me without a damn clue/
coulden´t really tell what he wanted to let me know/
he´s stories were glimpses from a lifeshow witch I own/
I was scared, started to svet, this coulden´t be real/
he knew exactly what i´ve done, and all the things i fear/
I swear, all my secrets that are locked in my heavy breast/
the barwalls heard confessions that once were put to rest/
he also seemed to know what went on inside, and how I felt/
this was the first and the last time, i ever met myself/