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Come with me, you said
And I’ll build a world apart
Where you’ll never have to grieve
For you’ll never want to leave
Honeycomb from stingless bees
Pillows soft as sparrow’s wings
Golden goblets wait to catch
The ruby wine from hidden springs
Pathways lined with diamond dust
Will lead us to a silver brook
And there we’ll learn from dragonflies
More secrets than one knows from books
And envy will not be allowed
From little minds we’ll bar the door
And safe inside you’ll barely hear
The West Wind’s angry roar
Come with me, you said
To our house upon the hill—
Without a breath, without a sigh,
I answered you—“I will.”
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My love’s a sickness, draining all my life
My eyes, my head, my heart no longer free
With gladness would I go under the knife
if medic lived who’d tear this plague from me.
My thoughts are not my own, they run astray
My traitorous eyes will only look on you
My fevered heartbeats inwardly betray
the power of this love I’ve come to rue.
For it has made me weak, and slow to act,
Forgetful of the shining water’s mud;
My mind a prison, and my body wracked,
No remedy remains to staunch my blood—
So, like the phoenix, burning from her core
I must destroy myself to live once more.
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To free myself from love I set you free
My precious independence was my all
Your eyes of grey meant only chains to me
I fled before your love’s demands could pall.
So now I sit here in this dark cafe
Where once we spoke of dreams we both could share
I drink, and weep, and laugh as if I’m gay—
Regardless of the way the people stare
For everything reminds me now of you
The golden moon, the bubbles in my wine,
The airplane disappearing in the blue
Will not let me forget that you were mine.
Now every city, every face is new
Fame’s my companion since we’ve been apart;
But still my anguished soul knows that it’s true:
I only gained the world to lose my heart.
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Calena
04:44
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Qwee
05:42
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II. Our house on the Hill
Come with me, you said
And I’ll build a world apart
Where you’ll never have to grieve
For you’ll never want to leave
Honeycomb from stingless bees
Pillows soft as sparrow’s wings
Golden goblets wait to catch
The ruby wine from hidden springs
Pathways lined with diamond dust
Will lead us to a silver brook
And there we’ll learn from dragonflies
More secrets than one knows from books
And envy will not be allowed
From little minds we’ll bar the door
And safe inside you’ll barely hear
The West Wind’s angry roar
Come with me, you said
To our house upon the hill—
Without a breath, without a sigh,
I answered you—“I will.”
III. The invalid’s sonnet
My love’s a sickness, draining all my life
My eyes, my head, my heart no longer free
With gladness would I go under the knife
if medic lived who’d tear this plague from me.
My thoughts are not my own, they run astray
My traitorous eyes will only look on you
My fevered heartbeats inwardly betray
the power of this love I’ve come to rue.
For it has made me weak, and slow to act,
Forgetful of the shining water’s mud;
My mind a prison, and my body wracked,
No remedy remains to staunch my blood—
So, like the phoenix, burning from her core
I must destroy myself to live once more.
IV. Nostalgia
To free myself from love I set you free
My precious independence was my all
Your eyes of grey meant only chains to me
I fled before your love’s demands could pall.
So now I sit here in this dark cafe
Where once we spoke of dreams we both could share
I drink, and weep, and laugh as if I’m gay—
Regardless of the way the people stare
For everything reminds me now of you
The golden moon, the bubbles in my wine,
The airplane disappearing in the blue
Will not let me forget that you were mine.
Now every city, every face is new
Fame’s my companion since we’ve been apart;
But still my anguished soul knows that it’s true:
I only gained the world to lose my heart.
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Mark Snyder Chicago, Illinois
Despite what you may think about electronic composers, Mark does not work in a laboratory. His music does not offer cross- sections of frequencies or waveforms, nor does it mix technology & the canon inside a closed petri dish. Instead, Snyder produces soundscapes that envelope the viewer, and charged arrangements keyed specifically to the moving image. Space is occupied, and space is offered. ... more
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