(oh....places I only dream of every visiting...sigh.)
This has to be Jay Chou's most sexy track ever (next to Rosemary that is).
English streetnames, armours, noblehood, murder in dark alleys, knights and horse carriages, those and piano and violin accompaniment, it's instant Victorian aristocratic and sophistication when you plug on!
English streetnames, armours, noblehood, murder in dark alleys, knights and horse carriages, those and piano and violin accompaniment, it's instant Victorian aristocratic and sophistication when you plug on!
Found online, an English-rendition of its lyrics and after touch-up, reading it almost makes for the mood the song delivers (if you've not heard before), else please skip this for the track *wink*.
Twilight's Chapter VII
December of 1983 in a small alley
(I am) penning "Twilight's Chapter Seven"
As the typewriter types away the next line that closes in on the truth
The withered trees seem to respond in teary lamentation as the smoke sail out from my heath pipe towards them
At the circular square at the side of Baker Street
An iris-patterned badge glistens on the armour sleeve of a rider
Mildly lit, not a sound from humans or horse-carriages
Evil lurks with the late night sojourn under the Victorian moonlight
Bloodshed opening, a vanished pistol, a charred cane, a melted statue of wax.
Who was inconspicuous from the scene?
Codes and Symbols on the gem case act as decoy
Contradictions were no end to the leads he constructed, all evidence perfectly buried
Lips that mock at the Scotland Police Academy forms a sinister upturned curl
If Evil were scores of glorious atrocity
(Then Justice is silent but hapless exasperation)
I will personally pen the last stance
(For I will flame a glimmer from the ashes)
The last traces of sorrow will evaporate at the magnificent glow of dawn
(Then rain will cleanse the lurid tall walls)
Black ink will be blended with serenity
(Exit blinkers will shut off and red tableu cutain cascade)
Truth only treads on virgin soils
Be they vivid floral frangrances, or deliberate elaborate costumes
Guises and lies can hold for a variety of reasons
But their motivations condense to what is just Desire
Crossing the marshland of humanity can one really remain undefiled?
It's possible to forget and forgive, but truth must first be rendered
The steely foundation that's been shifted and the last jigsaw finally pieces
I hear footsteps pattering
The unmistakenable soft leather heels
She pushes open the door the rush of an evening breeze dazzled the kerosene's flame
A halt to the ratchety-ratchety-ping of the typewriter's hovering at the Antagonist's name I turned around
The fiery sunset in Westminster Abbey's nite skies start a burning sensation in the chest rupturing a (my)splendrous death
I savoured the last moments of sweet revelation
On retrospect it is gratifying to learn that Justice is often quietly served and silently promulgated
Plucking at the strings on Thames
December of 1983 in a small alley
(I am) penning "Twilight's Chapter Seven"
As the typewriter types away the next line that closes in on the truth
The withered trees seem to respond in teary lamentation as the smoke sail out from my heath pipe towards them
At the circular square at the side of Baker Street
An iris-patterned badge glistens on the armour sleeve of a rider
Mildly lit, not a sound from humans or horse-carriages
Evil lurks with the late night sojourn under the Victorian moonlight
Bloodshed opening, a vanished pistol, a charred cane, a melted statue of wax.
Who was inconspicuous from the scene?
Codes and Symbols on the gem case act as decoy
Contradictions were no end to the leads he constructed, all evidence perfectly buried
Lips that mock at the Scotland Police Academy forms a sinister upturned curl
If Evil were scores of glorious atrocity
(Then Justice is silent but hapless exasperation)
I will personally pen the last stance
(For I will flame a glimmer from the ashes)
The last traces of sorrow will evaporate at the magnificent glow of dawn
(Then rain will cleanse the lurid tall walls)
Black ink will be blended with serenity
(Exit blinkers will shut off and red tableu cutain cascade)
Truth only treads on virgin soils
Be they vivid floral frangrances, or deliberate elaborate costumes
Guises and lies can hold for a variety of reasons
But their motivations condense to what is just Desire
Crossing the marshland of humanity can one really remain undefiled?
It's possible to forget and forgive, but truth must first be rendered
The steely foundation that's been shifted and the last jigsaw finally pieces
I hear footsteps pattering
The unmistakenable soft leather heels
She pushes open the door the rush of an evening breeze dazzled the kerosene's flame
A halt to the ratchety-ratchety-ping of the typewriter's hovering at the Antagonist's name I turned around
The fiery sunset in Westminster Abbey's nite skies start a burning sensation in the chest rupturing a (my)splendrous death
I savoured the last moments of sweet revelation
On retrospect it is gratifying to learn that Justice is often quietly served and silently promulgated
Plucking at the strings on Thames
My heart is at England.
