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lyrics

In the dead of night,
I was stirred from a dreamless daze.
A songbird serenades
No one, nor anything.

The light has wasted away
And we're aboard that runaway train.
With nothing but the blur all around,
The fog of a ballad grips me.

Why do you stir, Mockingbird?
Why do you stir, Mockingbird?
If you are singing for her, your music cannot be heard.

The moon's upon its throne.
Nocturnal broadcasts whisper on
Of days of yore
With nostalgic idealism.
Time will not yield.
In chaos, I feel most at piece.
For with the tides,
Comes turning, cleansing, changing.

Why do you save your songs?
Why sing when no one's listening?
Do you favor the quiet?
Or does sunny turmoil scare you?

Do you sing 'til you sleep
To drown the screaming silence?
'Cause somewhere in you, you weep.
And no symphony could hide it.

Why do you stir, Mockingbird?
Why do you stir, Mockingbird?
If you are singing for her, your music cannot be heard.

If you are singing for her, your music cannot be heard.

credits

from On Departure [EP], released September 17, 2015

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The Nocturnal Broadcast Baton Rouge, Louisiana

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