hidetake takayama - the tree feat. michael nelson | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• hidetake takayama
• the tree feat. michael nelson

They say 25 years is just enough time it takes to harden in your mold. Inflexible. I’m almost to that line already. I should look on the downhill side. The trees…and decomposition. The bittersweet smell of impending death with the hope of ultimate oblivion.

The first difference in my life was to sit down, my work complete. Surrounded by a field of fallen enemies and defeat. Orbited by planetary tombs of my own design. It may be forever because of the planets. And to break out of the present was impossible. The future doesn’t exist here. The past doesn’t exist anymore. It never existed. Only the present, the perpetual present covers all this time. And it felt like the coming day would just be a replica of before. Just a constant repeat. And it would be miserable. In the futility of my existence, I lifted up my voice, and to my future being I sang this lament:

"Swear that I will crawl out the craters and smell the earth that’s left when the smoke clears. Swear that when I slide down the side that my troubles won’t be close at my heels. I can’t promise that you will be free from the ghosts of fear, of hate, of doubt. But you will know that your faith will be shook, but you will recognize that you’re only a vapor."

"And when we figure out, but anymore, anyway. You might forget the route but anymore, anyway. You might regret the route, but anyone, anyways. You might regret the route, but your heart, anyway. But we can get around this. Weakness that surround you got around but you might regret the route, but it'll hurt, anyways."

My future self cheered me with these words. And it was as if, though nothing had changed in my external world, I saw my future existence and my present self unified in a strange, eternal present.

As I continued to slide down the slope of the craters outer wall, I thought, with surprising clarity, about the misery that had marked my life while I was struggling, inch by inch, to the mouth of that vast volcanic mouth.

And I saw the singed bark of the statin trees. And I looked down and saw the darkened flesh of my own singed arms. And it was then that I realized that I had demonstrated, in my own fragile way, the strength of the tree.