stadsvandringar

Now his sitting there, singing again, jokes from his laughing coma

And you ask him to silence again and let the hands speak instead

And he smiles and he changes like boys do, when there is nothing left to act befor

And he think he's in love again, there's so much on his mind.

But when you tell him Good night dear old friend, you're standing dressed in the hallway.

And you leave and he shrinks back like boys sometimes do, when they are naked with fullclothing on

 

Because you, saw more than my vanitys guitar.
You ripped a costume of a fool and let my bells fall to the ground.

As now, when theatre feels somewhat deranged

In the dawn when all pubs have closed down, bells fall from everyone.

 

But the dark comes back bitterly, so he laughs with the light.

You're crying silently again, with all the ghosts of the house.

And he calls and he tells you; The darkness you see make the stars shine a bit brighter still
So he sings you his sons again, and you smile at his eager.

And when you tell him; It's brightening outside

then he's already sitting there writing:

 

The light feels much stronger when the night takes place,

and the warmth is worth more in a storm.

And you saw more than my vanitys guitar, you laughed with stupiditys fool;

two clowns howling out in the night.
As now, when theatre feels more relevant, when the only thing true is what's dark;

I understand the fleeting laughters