2010年 Jun 7日 Monday, 19:27
Hospital
They took me to a place where nothing grew
to a place where only the shadows in the dust had time
They took me to a ward, a sun-bleached hospital
where the doors were so heavy as to not need locks
They led me past rows of starched beds
where our steps shall echo long after we've served our time
They scream your name when the rain meets the window
and an evil wind shakes the trees, tamburine shakers of dead leaves
And they took me to dirty beach
where the spirits of drowned surfers gathered PET-bottles for deposit
on a gravel road between fields where the flowers of evil were allowed to grow
and turn eternal forest into tabloids
And they point to a backdrop, poison yellow clouds
orange lights, silent silos, the contrails of airplanes, bone-gray towers
they whisper in my ear
"Do you see the future, do you see how nothing grows, nothing lives, but nothing dies?"
When you finally see all the mechanisms
you never get scared no more
when you finally see every emperor standing naked
then everything turns back again
everything turns back around again
I wake in a ward, in a shadowy hospital stands a woman
by my bed who bleaches her teeth a bit too hard
She gently strokes my cheek with a hand as artificial as a doll's
Wrinkle-free, ringless, heavy and feverish
And my skin is white porcelain, little relapses in a bout of
allergy against my present and my faith
I write your name uncertainly on a postcard, trying
to remember who you were, I've forgotten long ago
When you finally see who is pulling all the strings
you never get scared no more
when you finally see every emperor standing naked
then everything turns back again
everything turns back around again
I walk alone into the light
I walk alone into the light
I walk alone into the light
I walk alone into the light
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Mainly something I did for myself as practice (and procrastination from writing my final exam), seeing as I've always insisted on the importance of lyrics in the artists I appreciate but never really fully understood Swedish when sung at full speed and with no concern for the untrained Danish ear.
I've never listened all that much to Kent beyond Vapen och Ammunition, but Röd has basically blown me away, sonically as well as lyrically. I think Joakim Berg might be one of my favourite contemporary lyricists, which is why I'm sharing this with you guys. Enjoy and let me know if I messed up somewhere. Danish isn't Swedish, even though the languages have more than a lot in common.