Text: Peter Von Poehl. May Day. Near The End Of The World.

I dropped a few shells on my way
Far is the dune of the ruby sand,
Where I would sit
And watch the time stopping by.
I crossed a village made of ice,
White silent houses weep at night.
A lake that never breaks
Held the echo of her name.
I went straight, the labyrinth collapsed;
I followed the road of no return.
She might find me
Near the end of the world.
I saw candles burning on a hill;
The light or the thought remained still.
The horizon was disguised
As a long corridor.
So I picked a few thorns on the road;
The sense of the arrows
Showed me where.
The catcher in my dream
Drew a portrait of her.
I went straight, the labyrinth collapsed;
I followed the road of no return.
And never looked behind.
I?m almost there
And there?s no coming back;
I followed the road of no return.
She might find me
Near the end of the world.

(Merci a Leon DUONER pour cettes paroles)