Apples of Silver and Gold

Night comes around in her radiant dress.
See the man with the golden apples, she says.
He stole them from me and he ran away,
cities burning behind him, bright as the day.

Prophecies told me to wait for the signs.
The treasure was yours, and the treasure was mine.
The beams and the secrets, they started to fall
and we felt so close, and we felt so small.

Apples of silver and gold.

From the rooftops, from the steeples,
from the tops of cathedrals we laughed and we danced,
and we rang the bells. Me and the night, we made magic, we broke the spell.
With nothing to hide, no crime to confess.
I still remember how she glowed in that dress.

Apples of silver and gold.

Well, I’m not a thief, I said with a smile.
The summer felt soft and the fields they were dry,
the moon shining apples into her eyes.
We were splashing the water, we rained from the sky.

And we rose above the smoke and the lies,
down into the feathers of forests we’d slide –
sleep the enchanted, sleep the untold,
sleep all the fairy tale kingdoms of old.

Apples of silver and gold.

Magic comes once a lifetime, they say.
All of us need it but we have to pray
for apples of silver and gold, kingdoms of long time ago.
Apples of silver and gold, kingdoms of long time ago…

Diana Stefanova >>>

Дарение за нов албум на Пламен Сивов

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