The time has come for giving up
I have lost
I wanted once to become what
I cannot
Why come to me so full of dreams?
Well, go on
With feathered keys
You're mocking me
I am locked
It's easier to pine
To pine
But
I can feel it
Through the fields of graves
A beating heart
While
Rolling hills are
Roaming through my veins
And open arms
And all is full of smoke
Ah pining...
The words you speak
Stir things in me that I thought
Were gone
Their faint white heat
Melts centuries
Deep in
Frost
I can feel it
Through the fields of graves
A beating heart
While
Rolling hills are
Roaming through my veins
And open arms
And all is full of
Hope
Ah pining...