Arcadia Lyrics

I remember her in Belfast, in the house called Little Lea, in much happier times.
She left me, an urchin in the end room, as the last blue flower grew and died amongst the steele and shipyards.

I sought rapture from the wind. He would not hear of it.
I went off to the war with my fellow countrymen.
As we lied in those trenches, I could hear their petitions.
I would not sink so low again.

I thought no more about it, the compelling power of magic, the workings of technology.
But, my Lord, his approach is unrelenting, a steady yet urgent knocking on my chamber door.

Is there rapture in the wind? Can you feel it? Can what is to come make up for what once had been? Can blue flowers grow through the bitter cold? I ask once I ask again…

Is there rapture in the wind? Can you feel it? Can what is to come make up for what once had been? Can blue flowers grow through the bitter cold? Can we start over again?

I swear I had it right.

There is rapture in the wind. I can feel it. What is to come will be better than what once had been. Blue flowers can grow through the bitter cold. We can start over again