Текст песни
Choosing the life of a moth,
In the heart of motion,
Close to the glow,
Or to the flame —
What draws it so?
The illusion of choice,
The lie of control...
Maybe so.
Maybe so.
Or maybe it’s true.
Maybe it’s true.
And the gentle beat of a fragile wing,
On the other side of the world,
In another turn of time,
Can raise a wave — someday.
Can raise a wave — someday.
The thought of fading quietly,
In yet another dead-end of meaning,
And never meeting someone again —
Opens the abyss,
Breathing cold.
I still want to believe
In my — or our — maybe.
Maybe it’s true.
Maybe it’s true.
And the gentle beat of a fragile wing,
On the other side of the world,
In another turn of time,
Can raise a wave — someday.
Can raise a wave — someday.
Maybe…
Every moth holds more than it seems.
