Album:
Underjorden
Testi originali
Svedese
Traduzione
Inglese
Klyschan
The Cliché
It was you and I against the world, that's how it usually goes
An old cliché about the ideal love
With pink clouds around my head, jingle jangle, tra-la-la
we danced on a homemade pedestal each
We did all that one should do; everything and a bit more
dancing barefeet in the town square, in the middle of the day
Painting each other paintings, skinny-dipping in April
giving away daisies to strangers in town
And we gave each other nicknames, for no-one else to know,
and the same shitty haircuts
It was pink clouds in the mist, yo-ho and a bottle of rum
and the whole of life was a beautiful adventure
Then another guy came between us, as they are wont to do
I'm sure it wasn't a trivial decision
But you explained to me, in some trendy café
that even fairytales have endings
Then you became acquainted with fear, and I a friend of violence,
not against you but everything else I got my hands on
I drowned myself in blood, I cried that love is sold
and puked an ocean of fire and tears
But the tears ended when "you" became "us", "us" became "me"
all things considered it was probably a sound choice
Because he was cool and self-distancing, and a business of his own
but let no-one say your fucking love was very ideal
And time marched on, as it usually does
You cut a pageboy's hair, I shaved all of mine
A war broke out between the clichés, that old love never dies
and that time would heal all wounds
And silence became oblivion, and we became like people
I became vulgar and stupid, you stiff and prude
You went a comp-sci course on Komvux1, I partied and played football,
each of us faking a cynical big-city attitude
And you divorced him less than a year later
and moved up north soon after
To a college course in art direction and decor
and I took it as a final good-bye
But then we met by chance, I guess these things happen
now you're standing here by me again
And despite not having seen each other for eight years or more
it didn't feel like very long
And you and I aren't old yet -- nor are we very young
and hell if I know if we've grown up
But surely we could bring ourselves, despite the dizzyness
to meet somewhere in town for half-an-hour or so
And I promised myself to be humble, social
let bygones be bygones, cool and chill
But I can see what you're thinking, hell, you've left me no choice
everything's coming out now
Because you have four thousand sorrows in your sky-blue gaze
and a scent of forgotten longing in your hair
and your shoulders are burdened by loss, of all you never had
and anger against all you'll never have
And your pale lips tremble, from all you never said
your hands of everything you never did
And of a feeling that you became all you never wanted to be
and that life went oh-too fast
And you've dyed your clothes, in bitter loneliness
as though there was nothing to do
And you hide from the world like a beautiful secret
but drown your beauty in tears
But I want to sow you a dress from your colourful, childish dreams
I want to put a crown of daisies in your dark-brown hair
I want to sow without falling stars with moonlight like glittering seams
I want to speak in black-and-white, in a language you understand
I want you to sing for me, about immortal joy, my love!
Sing, intoxicated, delighted, of all we thought forgotten
I have crossed a sea of sorrow
to be close to you
To hold you tight and tenderly
And if you touch my hand, it's the hand that I recall
trembling, tender like a princess, and white
And in case ideal love is at all real
I think we might just find it
It could be you and I against the world
like it always was, of course
with pink clouds in mist, elves, trolls
And that we wandered all around the cliché
like many did before
It won't matter to us at all
- 1. A form of secondary education for adults in Sweden.
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