Listening again to Agnes Obel’s Album Myopia
__The winds around me__
While my feet are walking,
while my feet stand still,
while my voice is talking,
while I am just pretty ill,
the wind is always present,
treats me like a peasent.
But then, when I surrender,
the wind is charming towards me,
even though I seem like a preteneder,
with the wind around me I am free.
Trees are speaking through the wind,
maybe it is just them, being kind,
Like a never ending nightmare I wanted,
the winds and pain keep me haunted.
When it comes to nature my lies are gone,
there is no point in them, not alone,
in the light I burn, in darkness I feel free,
maybe I am just an old forest tree