A Mind's Dying Verse (the Solitary Stone)

The Russian Futurists

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    From towers and trees
    And churning seas
    Controlling nature's will
    From your window sill

    Past the glass
    The sun won't last
    And if you had your way
    They'd all be dismal days

    We'd stay inside
    Like you and hide
    And wish that things would change
    From behind window panes

    But grab the reigns
    And nurse those pains
    Because many years have past
    And your still stuck in last

    Initials carved in trees
    Representing you and me
    Are now lost
    And just washed
    Out like stones into the sea

    And boxes full of bones
    Resting under polished stones
    Represent
    A fallen soldier
    Left to die at war alone

    From the start your heart was cursed
    And the wine has made it worse
    And sixteen years
    Of captured tears
    Have formed a mind's dying verse

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    It's a perversion of the arts
    And young men's hearts,
    An abomination
    Of creation
    Tearing brilliant minds apart

    It's carved in bark
    Circled with hearts,
    It's a testament
    To the love you've spent

    You cross it out
    When new loves sprout
    Or when they come to bloom;
    You're leaving wooden tombs

    To leave a mark
    Of hearts you've sparked
    And turned to raging flames
    Until you're feelings change

    Now douse them fast
    But leave the ash
    Because it's a blackened pit
    That they won't forget

    Initials carved in trees
    Representing you and me
    Are now lost
    And just washed
    Out like stones into the sea

    And boxes full of bones
    Resting under polished stones
    Represent
    A fallen soldier
    Left to die at war alone

    From the start your heart was cursed
    And the wine has made it worse
    And sixteen years
    Of captured tears
    Have formed a mind's dying verse

    It's a perversion of the arts
    And young men's hearts,
    An abomination
    Of creation
    Tearing brilliant minds apart

    Boxes of bones
    And polished stones
    Are all that we have left
    To commemorate the deaths

    Of child and man
    And life's cruel hand
    Has tightened up it's grip
    On your sinking ship

    Now flowers are left
    Where you now rest;
    It's in a field alone,
    A solitary stone

    It cracks and splits
    And the world forgets
    And goes about it's day
    In the usual way

    Song details

    Composition: Matthew Adam Hart

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