•
Rating:
Hello.
I like to take risks, remain precarious, on an invisible twisted thread, which can be a blessing and a curse, of what, in a halo of subdued mediocrity, can be defined as existence, the joy that you definitely feel in knowing you're not alone at the least opportune moment, yes, that least opportune moment when the ship has left the port and increasingly becomes an undefined point on the horizon.
I drive, in the car, while I'm on foot, on a bike, because time never seems to be enough, never, never, in case it wasn't clear I don't write, maybe it could be a silent beginning.
It's 4 o'clock on a night that will enter the space of my tombstone, when time or whoever for it decides it's enough, Saints and Preachers. Politicians and Right-thinkers.
I'm running, at least I remember this, (signs of life).
The road always the same, always different, medium fast pace, typical of those in a hurry, but not too much, hurry for what, or who, is still unclear, (but at least I remember this) I'm running, I could stop to think, to laugh, to cry, but this last emotional deviation, shortly will knock at my door, and I won't be able to refuse its visit, tears are the blood of the soul.
The blood of the soul, a bluish retch of memories, and especially of you, who maybe smiles, or sleeps peacefully, or dies.
Dies.
Dies.
Dies.
I recognize that fantastically acoustic guitar, that familiar and unknown voice, beautiful and dangerous, perhaps the right thing at the wrong time?
The pressure rises, balance wavers, eyes swimming in the darkness lit by tired headlights, tired among other things, of searching for me at the bottom of an empty bottle, miserably without succeeding.
Tears.
Tears.
Tears.
The road glides quickly, but I can't brake that cardiac tremor that grips my heart, the lungs too heavy now to allow me to fly over the suffering, which rises and fills me with shit, with rancor, for what the wind has erased from my skin, that the rain has even eroded from the rocks placed by any God on the profane ground of an indigenous village, wild as our cities, delicate as open-heart surgery, meaningless like the road I travel.
Tears streak my face as I drive, the hemorrhage of the soul does not stop, in this fast night, passed on the road and who knows where, feeling alive, to the rhythm of the white line probably put as a boundary between life and death, right and wrong, black and white, or if you like, 6 and 9.
Dear Nick, I will be at your next concert, at the mercy of the God you have chosen, or who has chosen you, maybe not now, but time doesn't seem to flow in my favor. At least to thank you, with what remains of my heart, for always being there, mystically enclosed in a CD that spins endlessly in the stereo of this infernal car that takes me mile after mile to discover a bastard truth, as much as a gun pointed at your temple while you blow out the candles of your f***ing twentieth birthday.
Goodbye.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Pink Moon (02:06)
I saw it written and I saw it say
Pink moon is on its way
And none of you stand so tall
Pink moon gonna get you all
It's a pink moon
It's a pink, pink, pink, pink, pink moon...
02 Place to Be (02:43)
When I was young, younger than before
I never saw the truth hanging from the door
And now I'm older see it face to face
And now I'm older gotta get up clean the place
And I was green, greener than the hill
Where flowers grew and the sun shone still
Now I'm darker than the deepest sea
Just hand me down, give me a place to be
And I was strong, strong inside
I thought I'd see when day was done
Now I'm weaker than the palest blue
Oh, so weak in this need for you
03 Road (02:02)
You can say the sun is shining if you really want to
I can see the moon and it seems so clear
You can take the road that takes you to the stars now
I can take a road that'll see me through
I can take a road that'll see me through.
You can take a road that takes you to the stars now
I can take a road that'll see me through
I can take a road that'll see me through
I can take a road that'll see me through.
06 Things Behind the Sun (03:57)
Please beware of them that stare
They'll only smile to see you while
Your time away
And once you've seen what they have been
To win the earth just won't seem worth
Your night or your day
Who'll hear what I say.
Look around you find the ground
Is not so far from where you are
But not too wise
For down below they never grow
They're always tired and charms are hired
From out of their eyes
Never surprise.
Take your time and you'll be fine
And say a prayer for people there
Who live on the floor
And if you see what's meant to be
Don't name the day or try to say
It happened before.
Don't be shy you learn to fly
And see the sun when day is done
If only you see
Just what you are beneath a star
That came to stay one rainy day
In autumn for free
Yes, be what you'll be.
Please beware of them that stare
They'll only smile to see you while
Your time away
And once you've seen what they have been
To win the earth just won't seem worth
Your night or your day
Who'll hear what I say.
Open up the broken cup
Let goodly sin and sunshine in
Yes that's today.
And open wide the hymns you hide
You find reknown while people frown
At things that you say
But say what you'll say
About the farmers and the fun
And the things behind the sun
And the people round your head
Who say everything's been said
And the movement in your brain
Sends you out into the rain.
08 Parasite (03:36)
When lifting the mask from a local clown
feeling down like him.
Seeing the light in a station bar and travelling far in sin.
Sailing downstairs to the Northern line
watching the shine of the shoes.
Hearing the trials of the people there
who's to care if they lose.
Take a look you might see me on the ground,
for I am the parasite of this town.
Dancing a jig in a church with chimes
a sign of the times today.
Hearing no bell from a steeple tall
people all in dismay.
Falling so far on a silver spoon
making the moon for fun.
Changing a robe for a size to small
people all get hung.
Take a look you might see me coming through,
for I am the parasite who travels two by two.
Lifting the mask from a local clown
feeling down again.
Seeing the light in a station bar
and travelling far in sin.
Sailing downstairs to the Northern line
watching the shine of the shoes.
Hearing the trials of the people there
who's to care if they lose.
Take a look you might see me on the ground,
for I am the parasite of this town.
Take a look you might see me in the dirt,
for I am the parasite who hangs from your skirt.
10 Harvest Breed (01:37)
Falling fast and falling free you look to find a friend
Falling fast and falling free this could just be the end
Falling fast you stoop to touch and kiss the flowers that bend
And you're ready now
For the harvest breed
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Other reviews
By zaireeka
Listening is not enough.
I listen to Pink Moon and embark on a journey at the end of my little night.
By joe strummer
Nick’s voice penetrated my heart to touch the deepest strings of my soul, it motivated me immensely.
This album has made my life less trivial, less flat and gray.
By maxgit
"'Pink Moon' is the story of a defeat but also represents a victory."
The image is one of free fall, into the void, without a parachute. But there’s no pain, no suffering, you simply let yourself be carried away.
By Frank Bermuda
"Pink Moon is just like a sad phone call that goes deep inside you and injects you with a form of profound melancholy."
"Nick Drake is the almost extinguished ember burning in the coal of a fireplace, but that will never fully go out."
By Hell
That night, that damned night, I wanted everything to end. To never look anyone in the face again, neither pain, nor myself.
The face was pink and round like a moon, a scarred, frightened, and distraught moon, the mouth a river of bright red, the eyes two gray puddles forgotten by God.
