1. |
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The first time I saw Her
she was wearing the colours
of a summer in fall.
The next time I saw Her
she was weaving a story
never written before.
The last time I saw Her
she was charming a willow
on a dearby shore.
The next time I see Her
I'll be singing the song
of a summer in fall
and rise.
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2. |
The empty marketplace
01:22
|
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Your face lit up as
we were waltzing
through the empty marketplace,
your face lit up as
You were talking
how much You love to embrace
the moment,
every moment
You're in.
The place lit up as
we were gliding
through the empty marketplace,
The place lit up as
You were shining
uniting fun and grace
the moment,
every moment
You're in.
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3. |
Nevertheless
03:37
|
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A part of me was hoping it would turn out to be
not as warm and synchronized as previously.
That tiny hope was crushed the moment we set out, instantly.
The odds were too generous or so it proved to be
by the mind's bookmakers naive agency.
The other part of me was hopeful differently.
No space and time,
nevertheless,
never feeling lost.
A part of me was hoping it would turn out to be
not as free and harmonized as previously.
That tiny hope was crushed the moment we took off, instantly.
The odd was so glamorous, and then it moved to see
why the mind's conductor refused to agree.
The other part of me was hopeful differently.
No space and time,
nevertheless,
never feeling lost,
always sublime,
never the less.
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4. |
Here's to Random!
02:08
|
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I can't believe this!
There is no way!
You must be joking...
Pinch me, I pray!
Laughing my head off
riding my tears,
gravitation gone,
for the sight of You, here's
to Random,
a powerful place to be,
funny and true,
darling, You
Random.
A trick of the Universe
a comedy play,
written by pixies
hungover and gay.
It's hard to believe
my own eyes and ears,
Don't make me laugh!
I mean, please do, here's
to Random,
a powerful place to be,
funny and true,
darling, You
Random.
Laughing my heart out
counting my cheers,
levitation on,
for the sight of You, here's
to Random!
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Bardócz L. Csaba Keszthely, Hungary
Bardócz L. Csaba derűs-boros-tücskös-holdas-tündéres-felhős-szíves-szédülős-tükrös-csavaros-teás-angyalos dalokat
ír.
Gitárra kitárva.
Vonaton, kávézóban, kanapén, padon, felhőn. Pardon.
Magyarul, angolul.
Mikor elkezd írni, ő is kíváncsian várja, mi lesz a vége.
Mikor már tudja, hogy mi, szívesen előadja.
A dalok között és után örömmel beszélget.
Fotó-báj:
Ungor Richárd
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