Harvest My Fears

from Dying Wave

Tracks

  • Harvest My Fears

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Duration 11:46
Music and lyrics by E. St. Germain
(c) 2017 E. St. Germain

(i) What Good
What good is a kiss in that resort
If you don’t feel the sun
What good is the white light of a candle
If you stay in your black black world

What’s the use of a mourn
If the earth can’t dry your eyes
What’s the use of my words
If you don’t hear my calls

I know it’s late
But what shall we do now

Am I to be blamed for the rain
Are you ashamed of your pain
We forgot what we fought for
We were not what we thought

You lock the door
You walk away
Who’s in your head
When you look at me
Who makes you speak
Who makes you mean

Now the pears decay on the table
Will you harvest my fears

(ii) The East
You and I
We love
We shine
Shine bright
Love tight
In the swarm we are drunk with noise and lights
There on the kerb we sit and smile
Rest your head on my shoulder

We swim in the yellow sea
We drive on roads with strange letters
The heart on the hotel sign
And the rain in your eyes, my love
Just a postcard from the East
Just a postcard from the past

(iii) Encore !
With space and fear I fly
Nowhere better but in your arms
The time we wasted my love
Was not freedom but a life without you
Dreams we had a few for sure
But you needed more, I mean many

Love me until the world ends
Love me now love me by the fence
Je t’aime, darling
Je t’aime, you know I do
Did I hear you say encore ?
Encore !

Who remembers the fish on the cloth
The pictures of you at the market
Who knows how warm it was
To feel your arms around me
I do you don’t

The roads you’ll travel without me
The fleeting memories of your skin
Are yelling it will not last
Just before you say no more
To the urge of bliss and again : encore !

(iv) The Profane
I said
I want more time
More time, more hope
I want us to survive
We will, we are
Turn your wounds into care
Don’t let them tame you
Please come and speak
Please come and dance

But you are tired of running
Tired of losing faith
You are the sacred
I am the profane

Harvest my fears…

(v) Army of Lovers
Is this fear ? Is this fear we’re feeling inside ? Or bravery ?
We all climb, we all fall, we all deserve bliss and hope
Lonely is, lonely is the poet
We shall make an army of words, an army of lovers

We are one, we are more
We shall unite since we’re alike
Turn the tables, I’ll call your name
Open the doors and the sun will come in
Prophets of blood you’ll disappear
Cos in our hands the world is spinning