Paroles de Feraland

There congregate clocks, That drome without gears. The fumblings of fingers, Skilled in non-art. A semblance of time, The semaphore lies. Dead eyes reopen In Feraland An Augury burns The valley rolls on All lives abhorrence In Feraland All is reborn In Feraland The gaslight is dimming, The street falls in shade. Road formed in night-time, Is nameless and fades. Touching my temple, Seamless and blind. I weep for an opening, An opening, an eye. A million around me, The semaphore lies, The hour is one now, A semblance of time. A semblance of time, The semaphore lies. Dead eyes reopen In Feraland An Augury burns The valley rolls on All lives abhorrence In Feraland All is reborn In Feraland