Azure Ink Gertjan Wijnalda, november 1998, june 1999, january 2000 about this song it was definitely a haunting song to write. from the first piece of text i wrote back in 1998 to the last line written (it appears to make no sense, until it hits the burned out floor) in 2000, the song was on my memory. it is a conceptual piece that i once tried to explain in a column (dutch) i wrote, which was nearly impossible since this song really wrote itself. one of the feelings behind the song is revealed in the last word - neglection. listen to it   [ realaudio ] there's still no final mix that really captures the complete feeling of the song, which is the most important thing that a recording for, especially this song, should have.. Azure Ink (G.L. Wijnalda) I. Abandoned Writers Desk I once spilled some ink on our matters Once, my blood turned into ink To write down what it had to say And so it does again And off the table-edge Falls a drop of Azure Ink A drop of writer's blood A drop of writer's blood II. Another Sense There's a certain reflection in your eyes And I believe our eyes reflect The memories in our minds Believe in magic 'Cause we once experienced it Believe in everything That gives the world its color Believe in miracles 'Cause you're one - you are All my daydreams are disasters Rivers burn, men run backwards And off the table-edge Falls a drop of Azure Ink It appears to make no sense Until it hits the burned out floor A drop of writer's blood A drop of writer's blood III. Fountain We walked into a fountain Water splashes against the rocks There must be places where they fall to bits It's written in the sea, where everything knows Chorus IV. Breakdown And finally, the drop hits the floor And it reveals a picture of a broken man Trying to get back To where he once belonged Are you enjoying your freedom? Isn't it too boring to haven't got a goal in life But one to defend? Hope you're happy now With everything you've always had And so much more Wait a minute - did I really say that? No, I once spilled some ink on our matters Once, my blood turned into ink To write down what it had to say I wonder .. nevermind Chorus The pen that helped me writing It will never, it will never No it never will be used again V. Neglection of June Her black beauties roam for June angels S o far from home for a love lost A faded picture to tread lightning To ink the lavender skies The blood turned to ink And spelled 'neglect'