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lyrics

How many shores do I have to imagine
how many ships shall I get on or hide in
and how much salt must dry me to the bone
before I reach a corner to call home

The home I had, I wish I didn’t lose
it was just like the place I’m headed to,
my studies and my books
my girlfriend and my looks
yet someone didn’t want it to endure

I’ve wondered longing in my hiding cell
why these warmongers turned our lives to hell
they say, they follow my own God’s design
they kill to bring the word of the Benign

Ironic, how men want to see the world
as something simple which can be controlled
desire for self-importance
a human God to name chance
they fall like fish in nets, the Gods’ patrol

Their crave for victory is so intense
They fail to see it makes no fucking sense
I long the godless, dull utopia
to live and love, and stay until we die

credits

from Thoughts and Memories, released July 10, 2020

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about

Virgult London, UK

London-based Italian guitar player, wannabe singer, mad scientist and digital music tinkerer.

I keep being fascinated by anything the guitar can produce. The "little orchestra" just never ceases to amaze: jazz, blues, grooves, intricate layers, percussion, feelings, soundscapes. I strive to discover the marvel that is solo music making, piece by piece.
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