I.
Der du von dem Himmel bist,
Alles Leid und Schmerzen stillest,
Den, der doppelt elend ist,
Doppelt mit Erquickung füllest;
Ach, ich bin des Treibens müde!
Was soll all der Schmerz und Lust?
Süßer Friede,
Komm, ach komm in meine Brust!

II.
Über allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh,
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.

Nachtlieder

In the Timberline

Almost Brodsky

The New West

Rotting Eels

Perseids

But Modest Needs

A Beautiful Day

When someone says, "Alexandria,"
I see a house with white walls,
A little garden of purple flowers,
The pale sun of an autumn evening.
And I can hear the sound of flutes far away.
 
When someone says, "Alexandria,"
I see stars above a tired city
Of dark streets and drunken sailors,
Drawn in by the dance of the wasp.
And I can hear the tambourines and angry shouts.

When someone says, "Alexandria,"
I see fading crimson over the green sea,
The unruly blinking of the stars,
And those bright gray eyes underneath thick brows,
That I see every moment of the day.      
Even if no one says, Alexandria

Manchester

Alexandria

Ending Credits (Opeth Tribute)

Autumn Leaves

Dockspace