作曲 : SALOMAA, JOHANNA Strolling under harbor lights, Lilja reads a line ‘Poor Tatiana’ In another library, Rochester arrives Oh lord, he’s half-blind Lancelot and Guinevere came nowhere near the pier No love this year Marian called Robin Hood to save her from the sea But words are cheap Stories had been spun, a sea of metaphors were done And Lilja heard but wonder’s thunder All the books she read kept her in bed and hurt her head Her tragic flaw was not a blunder Percival got drunk and tossed his cup into the snow Where’d the grail go? Catherine found her Heathcliff but the Brontes died alone Air gets so cold Wind revives the balladeers sentenced to their words Fog means return For the bards and troubadours, sentences are worlds We long but don’t learn Stories had been spun, a sea of metaphors were done And Lilja heard but wonder’s thunder All the books she read kept her in bed and hurt her head Her tragic flaw was not a blunder Teeter totter by the harbor, Lilja looked up saw a starfish Holding her hand was Ophelia, Smith, Elliot; Plath, Sylvia Stories had been spun, a sea of metaphors were done But Lilja lived her blunder thunder All the books she read put her to rest on a seabed Her tragic flaw still makes me wonder Stories had been spun, a sea of metaphors were done But Lilja lived her blunder thunder All the books she read put her to rest on a seabed Her tragic flaw still makes me wonder lalala laaa lalala lalaalaa lalalalalalaaa lalalalalaalaa laa laa laa
作曲 : SALOMAA, JOHANNA Strolling under harbor lights, Lilja reads a line ‘Poor Tatiana’ In another library, Rochester arrives Oh lord, he’s half-blind Lancelot and Guinevere came nowhere near the pier No love this year Marian called Robin Hood to save her from the sea But words are cheap Stories had been spun, a sea of metaphors were done And Lilja heard but wonder’s thunder All the books she read kept her in bed and hurt her head Her tragic flaw was not a blunder Percival got drunk and tossed his cup into the snow Where’d the grail go? Catherine found her Heathcliff but the Brontes died alone Air gets so cold Wind revives the balladeers sentenced to their words Fog means return For the bards and troubadours, sentences are worlds We long but don’t learn Stories had been spun, a sea of metaphors were done And Lilja heard but wonder’s thunder All the books she read kept her in bed and hurt her head Her tragic flaw was not a blunder Teeter totter by the harbor, Lilja looked up saw a starfish Holding her hand was Ophelia, Smith, Elliot; Plath, Sylvia Stories had been spun, a sea of metaphors were done But Lilja lived her blunder thunder All the books she read put her to rest on a seabed Her tragic flaw still makes me wonder Stories had been spun, a sea of metaphors were done But Lilja lived her blunder thunder All the books she read put her to rest on a seabed Her tragic flaw still makes me wonder lalala laaa lalala lalaalaa lalalalalalaaa lalalalalaalaa laa laa laa
