0:005:01
Demian Niehaus, Aachen. Alles komplett selbst gemacht, freie Samples verwendet.
Ich freue mich sehr über Kommentare!
Ich freue mich sehr über Kommentare!
Call It Sleep
Call It Sleep
I call it waiting for better days
And you who build all these cities now rest a while
Oh Brother, won’t you meet me at the end of the alley, and we’ll go pluck suns and frozen leaves together, we’ll go sailing on the air like doves, and see all the people from above: rushing about-bout-bout on the subway, bustling down the street, coming home from work they don’t like to do, to feed their children and keep life going, keep living
Oh Brother, There’s something going on – on – on – on of which no one has any conception has any conception has any conception
Call It Sleep
Call It Sleep
I just need to rest my eyes
And you who erect all these neon towers now rest a while
Lay down your head
Running Running Running
To a future so unknown
We’re Mother Big Bang’s Children
And we’re on our way home
Running Running Running
Like the branches of a tree
That grow into some direction
Till they wither eventually
Running Running Running
To a future so unknown
We’re Mother Big Bang’s Children
And we’re on our way home
Call It Sleep
Call It Sleep
I call it plucking sun from the sky
And you who can never get enough hold on for a while
Hold on
Oh Brother
Can you see us the mute citizens of the earth climb up trees of smoke looking for some sense in the e-e-e-eternal whirls we’re going through over and over again, can you see us hanging around at the harbour in the black Chinese night, pirates chasing the horizon, there’s something going on-on-on, like bebop jazz, like rain falling for weeks, falling for weeks
Oh Brother, can see us drown amid the neon ads and the Gods of psychedelic revelation, hypnotized, see schools and hospitals and laundries and old people’s homes and churches and temples and universities all like dreams! And lives one by one following the pleasant rhythm of the days which goes like this: on-on-on-on-on-on-on, something going on, like a dream, a collective dream, an eternal dream, call it sleep
Call It Sleep
I call it waiting for better days
And you who build all these cities now rest a while
Oh Brother, won’t you meet me at the end of the alley, and we’ll go pluck suns and frozen leaves together, we’ll go sailing on the air like doves, and see all the people from above: rushing about-bout-bout on the subway, bustling down the street, coming home from work they don’t like to do, to feed their children and keep life going, keep living
Oh Brother, There’s something going on – on – on – on of which no one has any conception has any conception has any conception
Call It Sleep
Call It Sleep
I just need to rest my eyes
And you who erect all these neon towers now rest a while
Lay down your head
Running Running Running
To a future so unknown
We’re Mother Big Bang’s Children
And we’re on our way home
Running Running Running
Like the branches of a tree
That grow into some direction
Till they wither eventually
Running Running Running
To a future so unknown
We’re Mother Big Bang’s Children
And we’re on our way home
Call It Sleep
Call It Sleep
I call it plucking sun from the sky
And you who can never get enough hold on for a while
Hold on
Oh Brother
Can you see us the mute citizens of the earth climb up trees of smoke looking for some sense in the e-e-e-eternal whirls we’re going through over and over again, can you see us hanging around at the harbour in the black Chinese night, pirates chasing the horizon, there’s something going on-on-on, like bebop jazz, like rain falling for weeks, falling for weeks
Oh Brother, can see us drown amid the neon ads and the Gods of psychedelic revelation, hypnotized, see schools and hospitals and laundries and old people’s homes and churches and temples and universities all like dreams! And lives one by one following the pleasant rhythm of the days which goes like this: on-on-on-on-on-on-on, something going on, like a dream, a collective dream, an eternal dream, call it sleep
