A page of life torn from 
"The written annals of..."
The poly memories, so numerous
Enough to end our love

Old as trees an ancient haste unbound
Unfolds the limbs unwields the whims
What I mistook from the last refrains 
Of songs has gone...

(Chorus)
A page of life torn out
Of which cannot be found
From heights of mountains
To leagues under
A course not soon ignored

Who will interecede in our loss?
Older consequences have since passed
Will we be given back our love?
If not for these hours what do we have?