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Lovers' names, carved in walls
Overlap, start to merge
Some of them underneath
Maybe they appear

In graveyards
Maybe they fade away
Weathered and overgrown
Time has told

Meaningful hidden words
Suddenly appear, from the murk
Maybe they're telling us
That the end

Never was
Never will
The words have gone
But the meaning will never disappear 
From the wall


Original track: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWQXKJTlAQc
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Bibio - Lover's Carvings (Haugli's Mix)

In a small fishing village located on a remote island, there was an elderly man who loved to stroll along the beach at sunset, leaving his footprints on the golden sand as he contemplated the infinite sea.

One evening, as he walked along the shore, he came across a young boy sitting on a rock, lost in his thoughts.

"What are you doing here all alone?" he asked kindly.

The boy looked up, surprised to be interrupted. "I'm just trying to understand the meaning of life," he replied weakly.

The elderly man smiled and sat down beside him. "The meaning of life is like this ocean we see before us," he said, gesturing towards the vastness of the sea. "Majestic and mysterious. We may not always understand it, but we must accept its flow."

The boy nodded, but still seemed perplexed.

"Look at the waves," the elderly man continued. "They're like the events of life. Some are high and tumultuous, others are gentle and serene. But in the end, they all crash upon the shore, leaving only smooth and uniform sand."

The boy watched the ocean attentively, reflecting on the old fisherman's words.

"Life is made up of moments that leave their mark," he said. "But just like footprints in the sand, they will eventually be erased by the tide of time. No matter how hard we try to leave our mark, in the end, everything will fade away."

The boy felt relieved of an invisible burden as he listened to the wise words of the elderly man. Perhaps there was no need to search for the meaning of life so anxiously. Perhaps all he needed was to learn to accept the flow of time and enjoy the present moment.

That night, as the tide silently rose on the beach, the elderly man and the boy sat together on the rock, watching the sea shimmer in the moonlight. And in that moment, in the quiet of the island, they found the inner peace they had been seeking.

Alessandro Baricco's  'Oceano Mare' (1993).

Rise above your fingertips baybeee, let me take you on a journey through time and bass.  Hop on or hop off, but we ain't brakin!

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