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

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...