The Glass Piano
par .TheDust.
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Écoute ce morceau sur la radio communautaire Anthem.
par .TheDust.
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Écoute ce morceau sur la radio communautaire Anthem.
There's a piano in the parlor and the parlor's very cold
And the piano isn't wooden, no, the piano's made of glass
And it rings like a cathedral when you touch it as you pass
And it keeps a little winter in the bottom of the brass
Oh I played a single note and watched a decade of it pass
It went floating up the staircase like a rumor made of gold
And it's still up there somewhere and it's never getting old
And it's saying all the sentences I never could have told
Oh the glass piano, oh the glass piano light
Every key a little chapel and the chapel's got a ring
Every hammer is a hummingbird and every string's a wing
And it's ringing and it's ringing and it's ringing everything
Oh it doesn't need a player, it will play for anything
Oh the glass piano, oh the glass piano night
It's the coldest little music and it's warming me alright
And the parlor's full of morning and the morning's full of light
There's a frost along the pedals and the pedals catch the snow
And the sheet music dissolves before you get it anywhere
And the candles on the lid are only candles made of air
And the girl who used to play it is a photograph and prayer
Oh she's somewhere in the sostenuto, somewhere in the stair
And I only ever met her in a chord I didn't know
But she taught me how to listen and she taught me how to go
And she plays it every winter and she plays it very slow
Oh the glass piano, oh the glass piano light
Every key a little chapel and the chapel's got a ring
Every hammer is a hummingbird and every string's a wing
And it's ringing and it's ringing and it's ringing everything
Oh it doesn't need a player, it will play for anything
Oh the glass piano, oh the glass piano night
It's the coldest little music and it's warming me alright
And the parlor's full of morning and the morning's full of light
If it shatters in the springtime, that's a chance I have to take
For a beautiful and breakable is holier than sound
Every window is a door that somebody hasn't found
And I'd rather have it fragile than have nothing else around
Oh the prettiest things are temporary, that's what I have found
So I'll play until the morning and I'll play until I ache
And I'll leave it to the sunlight and whatever it will make
And I'll dream about the parlor every night that I'm awake