The Harpist Songtext
von Bird Problems

A bit of moonlit indulgence

We′ve come this far
What a waste it would be
To turn back now

Never get to see
The promise of this peak
There's a chance that is perfect

Is that not what we seek?

Moonlit indulgence
Gods behaving badly
We′re barely being Bacchic
Until we've slept with the trees

Drink a tall glass of orange juice


I'd call you a lyre
But you′d keep harping on
About it, dumbfounded,
Lute the corpse

Sting me to a frenzy
With your staff of the wild

Oh, we′ve gotten so high
Your hands caressing the sky

But no, it's never enough
There′s more just up and above

Climb through the night
Trust in this rite
No respite

Climb through the night
Trust in this rite
We'll do fine

Conquer your spite
No end in sight
The peak′s a lie

May the ground flow red with wine