Holy truth - unholy kind
Searching every ruined house
Teasing every ruined mind
Holy words - unholy lies
In the visions of tomorrow
On the grimace of the skies
I can sing the song of all the seasons past
I can tell the stories of slaves and masters
I can play with time and tear the souls apart
And possess the burden to be the last one
And the whole dying world will forget me again
All my dreams and my fears and faces and names
In the time of no color I do what I can
In the time when the story ends
Holy dreams - unholy blood
Fall in every burning city
Dwell in every burning heart
Open pages for no one
Writing words and revelations
On the surface of the sun
Tell me all the tales of how we came this far
How we turned the wheels of all our fortunes
Every effort fails and every shining star
Falls into the arms of death and torture
And the whole dying world won’t accept me at last
And my angels will try their wings on my hands
They embrace me with silence and feed me with dust
In the time when the story ends
Holy wars - unholy greed
In the heads already lifeless
In the darkness of defeat
Tell me how to hold my breath
Under heavy weight of ages
In the bloody hands of death
I can feel the world that burns beneath my feet
There is nothing left, no cries to hear
Only ashes cold and open wounds to bleed
In the winds of fire I disappear
And the whole dying world holds no powers for me
In the strange and disturbing remains of these lands
In the time of no sense and no reason to be
In the time when the story ends...
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 15, 2024