FLV-29112024-025-ST-FS – Bandcamp (November 29, 2024)
Ambient, art rock, emotional electronicaHome recording
Mixing / Mastering Nicola Cruciani
Formats Digital
Artwork Paranoimia
Nicola Cruciani – vocals, guitars, bass, keyboards, programming
Giorgio Giuseppini – keyboards
Vincenzo Lardo – backing vocals, bass, guitars, keyboards, programming
Giovanni Armadoro – piano, keyboards
NEAR SUNSET
Falling, like drops on a summer night
Like floating in the mud
Like rooms already emptied
Hiding in the corner
Sucking the usual wound,
It's not so different
From my childhood nightmares
I wish you were proud of me
Everything slips through my fingers
Near sunset, near sunset
Shadows descend on my face
That creep in the signs of time
Like rivulets of water that run
In the dry cracks of the earth
You cling to the seconds of a time
Of a day nearing sunset
You sip the last drops of tea
Of a day in good company
I wish you were proud of me
Everything slips through my fingers
And I’m here near sunset
I wish you were proud of me
Everything slips through my fingers
And I’m here near sunset
MAN OF DUST
It's spring in my house
And I'm here, dying of silence,
Like clocks in reverse,
I wait for the light in her eyes.
Like a return
Like as the sight
This is not a place to travel,
With a view to the horizon.
I am the man of dust
And like dust that blinds
I would like more time
To see and to smile,
With flower that bloom
In your childlike gaze.
Building a castle
For a hug from you?
I wait for your sleep
To tell you good-bye
I am the man of dust
And like dust that blinds
Here comes autumn
With my heart in the mud.
Above dryness and loneliness
I can picture you.
And this hour will pass
And even this hard day
And even with a greying hair
I get back to you
I get back to you
I get back to you
I get back to you
LAYING STONES ON THE GRASS
All my solitude in the sun,
Clouds wrapped inside a veil.
A scratch, heavy and tired of pain,
Another holy step there in the wind.
An orange lamp fades
In the distance, from that window.
I counted those days,
Laying stones on the grass
As a path of liberation,
Like a pact with no destination.
Blankets stored in the closet
Which are no longer needed now.
Is it possible the step is so short?
Like the time to turn to the wind?
A silver picture hanging on the wall,
A calendar on the same page.
I break down the hours from hope,
The threads of a life caught in the hands.
Is it possible the step is so short?
Like the time to turn to the wind?
Is the distance from the dark so short?
Like your greeting, just mentioned?
Giorgio Giuseppini – keyboards
Vincenzo Lardo – backing vocals, bass, guitars, keyboards, programming
Giovanni Armadoro – piano, keyboards
Sunset – 4:15 (Cruciani, Lardo)
Elegy – 7:11 (Cruciani)
Dust – 3:51 (Cruciani, Giuseppini, Lardo)
Out Of Sight – 1:25 (Armadoro)
Stones – 4:40 (Cruciani, Lardo)
Rain – 8:07 (Cruciani)
NEAR SUNSET
Falling, like drops on a summer night
Like floating in the mud
Like rooms already emptied
Hiding in the corner
Sucking the usual wound,
It's not so different
From my childhood nightmares
I wish you were proud of me
Everything slips through my fingers
Near sunset, near sunset
Shadows descend on my face
That creep in the signs of time
Like rivulets of water that run
In the dry cracks of the earth
You cling to the seconds of a time
Of a day nearing sunset
You sip the last drops of tea
Of a day in good company
I wish you were proud of me
Everything slips through my fingers
And I’m here near sunset
I wish you were proud of me
Everything slips through my fingers
And I’m here near sunset
MAN OF DUST
It's spring in my house
And I'm here, dying of silence,
Like clocks in reverse,
I wait for the light in her eyes.
Like a return
Like as the sight
This is not a place to travel,
With a view to the horizon.
I am the man of dust
And like dust that blinds
I would like more time
To see and to smile,
With flower that bloom
In your childlike gaze.
Building a castle
For a hug from you?
I wait for your sleep
To tell you good-bye
I am the man of dust
And like dust that blinds
Here comes autumn
With my heart in the mud.
Above dryness and loneliness
I can picture you.
And this hour will pass
And even this hard day
And even with a greying hair
I get back to you
I get back to you
I get back to you
I get back to you
LAYING STONES ON THE GRASS
All my solitude in the sun,
Clouds wrapped inside a veil.
A scratch, heavy and tired of pain,
Another holy step there in the wind.
An orange lamp fades
In the distance, from that window.
I counted those days,
Laying stones on the grass
As a path of liberation,
Like a pact with no destination.
Blankets stored in the closet
Which are no longer needed now.
Is it possible the step is so short?
Like the time to turn to the wind?
A silver picture hanging on the wall,
A calendar on the same page.
I break down the hours from hope,
The threads of a life caught in the hands.
Is it possible the step is so short?
Like the time to turn to the wind?
Is the distance from the dark so short?
Like your greeting, just mentioned?
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