The man and the ghost, will meet again,

In the night when it snows, never quiet, never cold



Hear their calling, lost lords to cast the ride,

white spears in their hands, pointing towards the sky



The ancient echoes, from the wielded jaws, 

the bones and the scales, the forgotten lore



The calm of the night, lighting the flame,

In the night ehen they haunt, the curtain shall fall



Heroes and fools, all together, all the same, statues of the restless

Gallery of the drowned and the pale



The man and ghost, will meet again, on the marshes of the old, 

though silent when it snows