Camera angles decadence of a dying world Matchsticks Long dark corridors They've got the urge to die young
Deepbluelettering
Carousels and fireworks Ferris wheels are spinning in the arc-lite city Do they know They have slept for so long Do they know The taste of their tongue Do they know They are trapped
Let's celebrate the modern end Let the world begin again Celebrate the renaissance man [The modern end, Tristania]
(Non mi piace vivere nell'anno mille)
LET'S CELEBRATE THE MODERN END
We can abide life's pelting storm, that makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm. -Blake- ______________________________________________________________________________________
Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées, Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.