Hope / Renaissance

An uncomfortable melody
Whistled on a blade of grass
By the winds powerless gasp
This melody shall be the last

See how the trees wither
While they’re longing for a last tear from a river
The last straw for the renaissance of hope

No bud in bloom will ever be seen again
This melody shall be the last

A portrait black in black
Lies idle on its deathbed
The ravages of time run dry
As part of its last pulsation

The ravages of time run dry, a portrait
As part of its pulsation, black in black

Decades of passive euthanasia
Created a cremated world
Die and let die, vanished and be forgotten
How peaceful will this future be?

See how the trees wither
The only constant noise
In the serene air

The only constant noise, the sound of the flatline

In the serene air, the only constant noise
The sound of the flatline
Hope for renaissance, in the serene air
The last straw for the renaissance of hope

The sound of the flatline
Hope for renaissance, the last straw
For the renaissance of hope

Take a look at this bleak elegancy, just before the final collapse
The clamor of silent words will also be unheard today

How peaceful this future will be
When life re-creates itself, bit by bit
And silence touches the soul of beauty
Until everything blooms again

In the serene air, the only constant noise
The sound of the flatline
Hope for renaissance, in the serene air
The last straw for the renaissance of hope

The sound of the flatline
Hope for renaissance, the last straw
For the renaissance of hope