My Kantele
Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense
Who say that music reckon that the kantele
Was fashioned by a God
Out of a great pike's shoulders
From a water-dog's hooked bones
It was made from the grief
Moulded from sorrow

Its belly out of hard days
Its soundboard from endless woes
Its strings gathered from torments
And its pegs from other ills

So it will not play, will not rejoice at all
Music will not play to please
Give off the right sort of joy
For it was fashioned from cares
Moulded from sorrow

The Brother-Slayer
Where have you been where have you been
My son, my merry son?
On the seashore, on the seashore
Mother, my darling one

And what have you been doing there
My son, my merry son?
I have been watering my horse
Mother, my darling one

Why is there blood upon your feet
My son, my merry son?
My horse stamped with its iron shoe
Mother, my darling one

Why there is blood upon your sword
My son, my merry son?
I have stabbed my brother to death
Mother, my darling one

What now of you where will you go
My son, my wretched son?
To other lands to foreign lands
My dame, my darling one

When will you be returning home
My son, my wretched son?
When all the world to judgment comes
My dame, my darling one

The Brother-Slayer, Part II: The Lost Son
Instrumental

Levitation
In the darkness I will shine
Cast no shadows, not define
I walk on water, float on air
There's no other to compare

I have this fascination
No cause for deviation
It's called levitation

There's no cause to start and scream
Nor rub your eyes this is no dream
Although I sit upon this chair
I rise and float up in the air

Magnetic force, repel-attract once it starts
There's no turning back
I offer you this chance to learn
Take it now there's no return

And I Hear You Call
I must be out of my mind as I hear you call
My name is even though I can't see you anywhere
Surely this feeling must be coming from something
Someone gave me yesterday as I searched for you

And I hear you call
I hear you call my name
But when I turn around
There's nothing to be found

I must be dreaming a dream of a lunatic
My fingers taste like some strawberry ice-cream
I hear you call my name but I don't think
It's the same I heard you whisper in my ear