Contemplative Blues


THAT SENSE OF DESTINY, THAT SENSE OF DESTINATION
THAT I'VE LOST...
THE FILTER OF MY OWN IMAGINATION
I TRUSTED MOST...
BUT NOW, IN MY PRESENT INCARNATION
I'M OUT OF KILTER, LIKE A GHOST.

I DIDN'T PAY FOR REASON:
I SPENT SO MUCH ON CHANCE
IT USED TO MAKE A LOT OF SENSE
IN THE BEGINNING OF THE ROMANCE
WITH THAT UNHOLY CITY,
WHERE EVEN THE DEAD CAN DANCE
WHERE I CAN SMELL THE DECADENCE
WHERE YOU'RE SO YOUNG AND PRETTY
OOH, BABE, I SPENT SO MUCH ON CHANCE...

AND THEN I BUILT A PRISON:
I WAS OBSESSED WITH SELF DEFENSE
IT USED TO MAKE A LOT OF SENSE
IN THE BEGINNING OF THE OFFENSE
I WAS ALERT AND BUSY...
BY NOW THAT THREAT SEEMS SO OBSCURE
BUT I DON'T FEEL MUCH MORE SECURE
MY CASE IS DIFFICULT TO CURE
I MEAN, IT AIN'T EASY

OPEN MY EYES, BABE
OPEN MY EYES...

QUIETLY LEAKING OUT OF PRISON
THROUGH NARROW CRACKS IN MY MENTAL FENCE
I'M SAYING "HI" TO COMMON SENSE
I'M SAYING "BYE" TO INNOCENCE
AND I AM TRADING CHANCE
FOR REASON
SO...

LET'S CELEBRATE THAT WE ARE FREE
NOT TOTALLY, BUT TO A DEGREE
LET'S HOPE THAT WE'LL BE NO LESS FREE
IN THE UPCOMING SEASON.

THAT SENSE OF DESTINY, THAT SENSE OF DESTINATION
I CANNOT FIND...
THE ENGINE OF MY SELF ANNIHILATION
IS WORKING FINE
BUT, BABE, IN THE FUTURE INCARNATION
YOU WILL BE MINE !..


© 1993 Yuri Naumov