i was but a little wind manmade with love
at noon washed ashore
or thats how they told me

my father was born out of sea
he ran out of love
or thats what he liked to believe

a chronicle made out of drops of the morning sun
a ballad made in dreams

my mother came down from the heavens
brought light in her right hand
and guilt in her left

my brother marched on the face of the earth
he became god and waged wars

a promise was born out  of fire
yet no one seems to have found the end of time

i have nothing left
at least take my eyes
and let them have a look
of the pictures before i die

pictures before i die

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