Memories Of The Tragedienne

In the tragic play 
A marionette of the clock 
Pages filled with a chronicle in blood 

Scents and sights,come back to me 
My life in memories, makes me want to go 
Try and hold on to what's left of all 
The golden scenes I forever want to know 

The curtains are lifted 
Reveal a spectacle of rare 
'Til the final act I am your tragic one 

Soaring in the wind 
Sounds - so transcendent 
So faint and softly 
Carries me above 

Scents and sights...