Ocean - Gu Dan Bei Ban Qiu & Xing Fu Che Zhan

nothing wrong with these songs, nice ones in fact.

i've been singing quite a bit, something i never really did before, cause i don't think i can really sing.
but i'm trying to find my own voice in all these singing. i don't care if you think i can sing for nuts. that's subjective, and it's not that i care.

i am down, i don't know why.

no, i don't want to seek the solution from You when i go tomorrow.

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cleared up my room,
put up my whiteboard.
started the countdown in my room,
vaccum cleaned the table of the shavings.
the table's clean,
at least i can use the table now.
tomorrow that is.

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the stage is set for the show to begin.
would it start soon?
will there be an interlude?
or a standing ovation when it's done?
will they demand an encore?
not from the phantom who doesn't live in the theatre,
nor the one who plays music not that of the night.

i'm thankful for being unknown to those who don't know me.
obscurity cloak me, lest i hide my circle in public.

i walk through your gallery of paintings,
those you paint not with brushes or your fingers,
but with words and that of ideals.
it's impressionism in itself,
but why should that matter to you?
let trees be blue,
and the sky red,
and water green,
and the people in the canvas grey.
immortality bestowed upon those you write about,
mortality given to those etched in your heart.
when all's been said and done,
and every last one falls,
then we'll all say,
let it be,
for what will be,
will be.

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the heart pulsated,
the pearls from within.
they never left the window,
but nevertheless they were put into being.