Testo di 'Meteorites' di Yann Tiersen

So here we are
Under London’s glass and granite arms
As they reach for the half Moon

Me a blur of boldness and booze
And the rusty Earth polka-dot breeze of you
Stands stuck to the street in cool shoes

What could possibly go wrong?
What could possibly go right?

We could list all the good things
And list all the bad things
But if we’re all just vibration
What difference does it make?

My heart could be a stone
It’s a sponge
It’s a balloon
It’s a lonely rock with a fiery tail
Falling in your atmosphere
Burning up and breaking down

So let our atoms melt together
Let our nuclei converge
I want you now
And your conscience can be clear

My yesterday is dead
The present’s an illusion
And tomorrow is just a nightmare away

This is our story
Our movie
This is our rom-com and it ends like this
Without looking up the girl cautiously takes the boys hand
She steels herself then meets his gaze
The boy smiles, the girl surrenders
They kiss

We pull away to reveal more lovers
In a long winter coat
A woman straddles
A man on
A wooden bench
Behind a coin operated lavatory
Two boys passionately embrace

Vague silhouettes sigh
Behind the steamed windows of a parked car
Two figures fumble in a phone box
There’s a couple in every doorway
And around every corner
Snow begins to fall

We drift up into the sky
And look down on the boy and the girl
As they become tiny specks on a London street

We pull away further and further
Until London’s gone
England’s gone
Europe’s gone

Now we’re in space
Watching the earth
As the Sun rises behind it
Satellites orbit by
A billion stars surround us
We float over the Moon
Then we cut to black
And the credits roll

I want you now and now is all we can know
I want you now and now is all we can know
I want you now and now is all we can know
I want you now and now is all we can know

Imagine we wake up tomorrow
And nothing’s happened
Think of what we’ll never know
One night of love and a month full of doubt
Take my hand; take my tongue
Let’s run

Tonight can be a detour, a respite
I'm your bus-man’s holiday
Your much deserved night off

I'm your sensual sojourner
My heart could be a stone
My heart could be a sponge
This is the end: 10 years in the making
A decade of design
This kiss is hello
This kiss is goodbye