Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bluebells , by - Moon Safari. Song from the album Blomljud, in the genre Иностранный рокRelease date: 04.06.2012
Record label: INgrooves
Song language: English
Bluebells |
| Dancing on the feet of a miracle |
| While winter’s growing cold |
| Life seems almost cynical |
| In the gardens of green and gold |
| While the apples of eden are calling me |
| I sometimes just can’t believe |
| That man was made a replica |
| Of someone elses dream |
| Away to where the rainbow’s just a stoney throw away |
| Where kings and queens assemble, just to greet the world and say: |
| Bear witness to the princess as she lights her precious dome |
| And bluebells call you home |
| Home, home, bluebells calling home |
| Home, home, bluebells calling-- |
| Home to all the broken melodies |
| Is a home for all the sunny skies |
| To rhyme without a reason endlessly |
| Just look at how the butter flies |
| When the evensong sing through the mezzanine |
| And the birds interrupt the trees |
| They were talking in the forest hatching up a scheme |
| When winter comes they’ll up and leave |
| To find the swirling oceans made of conscience and of clay |
| The weight of all this nonsense we must carry down the way |
| Towards the great reunion of the apple and the crow |
| Come on it’s time to go… |
| Home, home, bluebells calling home |
| Home, home, bluebells calling home |
| Home, home, bluebells calling home |
| Home, home, bluebells calling home |
| Tell the tree of sunlight, tell the day of rain |
| Listen for the flutter, rising up again |
| Better off without a suitcase is the mind |
| Grasping at a moon beam, counting out the time |
| I was only eight when magic touched my ear |
| Now it seems the only thing I hear |
| Is the everlasting chorus of a neverlasting dream |
| Locked inside my fantasy |
| So listen up campers along with the rain |
| The promise of sunshine again |
| With all that is pretty and all that is blue |
| The bluebell shines for you |
| Now somebody sold my blank endeavour |
| To the creatures that walk on the moon |
| In time you’ll see the world at the speed of light |
| As we all set stones in bloom |
| Home, home, bluebells calling home |
| Home, home, bluebells calling home |
| Dancing on the feet of a miracle |
| While winter’s growing cold |
| Life seems to be almost cynical |
| In gardens of green and gold |
| Dancing on the feet of a miracle |
| While winter’s growing cold |
| Life seems to be almost cynical |
| In gardens of green and gold |
| The light has come to free this song of anything that goes |
| The featherless magician shakes his head and tells us slow |
| The poet down on main street can’t believe his sunken eyes |
| A calling from the skies! |
| I’ve never seen a brighter sun |
| Than the one the crow incorporated |
| Into his painted rivers three |
| As the apple reunites the broken melody |
| Blue is my direction home |
| Into a world where every ghostly figure |
| Flutter round the cosmic tare |
| As we’re dancing on the feet of miracles everywhere-- |
| Where do flowers go, when all is said and done |
| They hope and pray, to find a second sun |
| With golden shores, and amber painted skies |
| Where poets run, and bluebells call home… |
| I’ve never seen a better day |
| Than the one that drove the clouds away |
| Forever from this holy earth |
| And the bluebells simple words just resting in the dirt |
| And finally it seems to me |
| This has got to be the place indeed |
| I’m just sitting in the gardens green |
| Watch the blue above and simply dream… |
| My dreamy dream |
| Where do flowers go, when all is said and done |
| They hope and pray, to find a second sun |
| With golden shores, and amber painted skies |
| Where poets run, and bluebells call home… |