“The Sound of Paper Suns”


Candles flicker in the winter air
Masks and laughter everywhere
Tables stacked with wine and bread
Old rules vanish, nothing’s said
Feast of Saturn, crown of green
Kings and slaves switch the scene
Dance in circles, neon light
Turn the day into the night

Saturnalia, we’re burning bright
Lose control, it feels so right
Raise your glass, let the chaos flow
Let the ancient fires glow

Drums are pounding, shadows sway
Street-lit processions lead the way
Cards are dealt, dice collide
Fortune favours the foolish side
Reversal, misrule, play the part
Anarchy lives in the human heart
From the temples to the streets we go
Wrapped in winter’s glittered glow

Saturnalia, we’re burning bright
Lose control, it feels so right
Raise your glass, let the chaos flow
Let the ancient fires glow

The old gods laugh, the candles bend
Tonight we start and never end
Masks are shining, hearts ignite
Welcome to Saturnalia night

Saturnalia, we’re burning bright
Lose control, it feels so right
Raise your glass, let the chaos flow
Let the ancient fires glow


Saturnalia, we’re burning bright
Lose control, it feels so right
Raise your glass, let the chaos flow
Let the ancient fires glow


Dancing under frozen stars
The night belongs to who we are
Saturn smiles as we let go
In the fire of Saturnalia’s glow


SATURNALIA


The lady stands in her bower door,
As straight as willow wand.
The blacksmith waits a little fore bye,
Hammer heavy in his hand.
“Weel may ye dress ye, lady fair,
In robes of deepest red.
Before the morn returns again,
I’ll claim what you have kept.”

She swore by the mold,
By chest of gold,
“I’d rather be gone,
Than give my heart untold.”

O bide, lady, bide…
Through every shape, I will find,
O bide, lady, bide…
Through every turn, your fate is mine.


She turned herself to a turtle dove,
To fly up in the sky.
He became another dove,
Pairing wing to wing on high.
She swam into the burn as eel,
He followed as the trout.
She puddled as a duck, he drake,
Round and round they spun about.

O bide, lady, bide,
No matter how you hide,
Through every spell and shape,
The blacksmith walks beside.

O bide, lady, bide…
Through every shape, I will find,
O bide, lady, bide…
Through every turn, your fate is mine.


Hare on the hill, greyhound at your heel,
Mare and saddle, spinning wheels.
Girdle and cake, ship and nail,
No escape through storm or veil.

She became a silken plaid,
Stretching soft upon a bed.
He became the green covering,
And claimed what had been fled.
All her pride, all her defiance,
Could not stand against his call.
Through every twist, through every turn,
The blacksmith conquered all.

O bide, lady, bide…
Through every shape, I will find,
O bide, lady, bide…
Through every turn, your fate is mine.
O bide, lady, bide…
Through every spell, I will bind,
O bide, lady, bide…
The blacksmith’s will is intertwined.

Was she wae? He held her close…
Through all her pride, her maiden’s ghost…
O bide… O bide…


Drunk Girls

LCD Soundsystem

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