Woorden: The Gathering. Anachrone Circles.
It's in the air, and it shines like rain.
I think you didn't notice, it's coming back again.
Listen very closely, you might hear the sound.
It's getting deeper, spinning around.
The green-eyed lady of the lowlands, sitting in a silver chair.
She gave me some postcards, orange in her hair.
She turns iron into silver, plastic into gold.
About these Celtic rings, no story has been told.
It's all about inspiration, empty pages in a book
You are changing colour every time I look
A perfect circle is created by a different tool
Some food at the station, yes, that's cool
Anachrone circles in the sky,
You may catch them if you try.
Meet me at the demasque and make my day
I think you didn't notice, it's coming back again.
Listen very closely, you might hear the sound.
It's getting deeper, spinning around.
The green-eyed lady of the lowlands, sitting in a silver chair.
She gave me some postcards, orange in her hair.
She turns iron into silver, plastic into gold.
About these Celtic rings, no story has been told.
It's all about inspiration, empty pages in a book
You are changing colour every time I look
A perfect circle is created by a different tool
Some food at the station, yes, that's cool
Anachrone circles in the sky,
You may catch them if you try.
Meet me at the demasque and make my day
The Gathering
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