Song Of Myself Lyrics - Imaginaerum - Nightwish

I. From A Dusty Bookshelf 

II. All That Great Heart Lying Still 

The nightingale is still locked in the cage 

The deep breath I took still poisons my lungs 

An old oak sheltering me from the blue 

Sun bathing on its dead frozen leaves 

A catnap in the ghost town of my heart 

She dreams of storytime and the river ghosts 

Of mermaids, of Whitman's and the Ride 

Raving harlequins, gigantic toys 

A song of me, a song in need 

Of a courageous symphony 

A verse of me, a verse in need 

Of a pure heart singing me to peace 

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(All that great heart lying still and slowly dying 

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing) 

All that great heart lying still 

In silent suffering 

Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end 

What is left for encore 

Is the same old Dead Boy's song 

Sang in silence 

(All that great heart lying still and slowly dying 

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing) 

A midnight flight into Covington Woods 

A princess and a panther by my side 

These are Territories I live for 

I'd still give my everything to love you more 

A song of me, a song in need 

Of a courageous symphony 

A verse on me, a verse in need 

of a pure heart singing me to peace 

Photos 

(All that great heart lying still and slowly dying 

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing) 

Now all that great heart lying still 

In silent suffering 

Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end 

What is left for encore 

Is the same old Dead Boy's song 

Sang in silence 

(All that great heart lying still and slowly dying 

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing) 

III. Piano Black 

A silent symphony 

A hollow opus #1, 2, 3 

Sometimes the sky is piano black 

Piano black over cleansing waters 

Resting pipes, verse of bore 

Rusting keys without a door 

Sometimes the within is piano black 

Piano black over cleansing waters 

(All that great heart lying still and slowly dying 

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing 

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying 

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing) 

IV. Love 

I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street 

with a begging bowl in his shaking hand. 

Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices. 

I do, but walk by. 

An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic. 

It's half-light and he's in tears. 

When he finally comes his eyes are cascading. 

I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me. 

All pride has left his wild drooling eyes. 

I wish I had my leg to spare. 

A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars. 

She's never loved him more. 

An obese girl enters an elevator with me. 

All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck. 

Terribly sweet perfume deafens me. 

She's going to dinner alone. 

That makes her even more beautiful. 

I see a model's face on a brick wall. 

A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill. 

A city that worships flesh. 

The first thing I ever heard was a wandering 

man telling his story 

It was you, the grass under my bare feet 

The campfire in the dead of the night 

The heavenly black of sky and sea 

It was us 

Roaming the rainy roads, combing the gilded beaches 

Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn 

bathing in places no one's seen before 

Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island 

Clad in nothing but the surf - beauty's finest robe 

Beyond all mortality we are, swining in the breath of nature 

In early air of the dawn of life 

A sight to silence the heavens 

I want to travel where life travels 

following its permanent lead 

Where the air tastes like snow music 

Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden 

I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture 

I would bathe in a world of sensation 

Love, goodness, and simplicity 

(While violated and imprisoned by technology) 

The thought of my family's graves was the only moment 

I used to experience true love 

That love remains infinite 

as I'll never be the man my father is 

How can you "just be yourself" 

when you don't know who you are? 

Stop saying "I know how you feel" 

How could anyone know how another feels? 

Who am I to judge a priest, beggar 

whore, politician, wrongdoer? 

I am, you are, all of them already 

Dear child, stop working, go play 

Forget every rule 

There's no fear in a dream 

"Is there a village inside this snowflake?" 

- a child asked me 

"What's the color of our lullaby?" 

I've never been so close to truth as then 

I touched it's silver lining 

Death is the winner in any war 

Nothing noble in dying for your religion 

For your country 

For ideology, for faith 

For another man, yes 

Paper is dead without words 

Ink idle without a poem 

All the world dead without stories 

Without love and disarming beauty 

Careless realism costs souls 

Ever seen the Lord smile? 

All the care for the world made Beautiful a sad man? 

Why do we still carry a device of torture around our necks? 

Oh, how rotten your pre-apocalypse is 

All you bible-black fools living over nightmare ground 

I see all those empty cradles and wonder 

If man will ever change 

I, too, wish to be a decent manboy but all I am 

Is smoke and mirrors 

Still given everything, may I be deserving 

And there forever reamins that change from G to Em