I see the remnants of our past

Were we there?

I see no light, no hope, we fall

Are we here?

We see our aspirations fail



I feel the winters growing cold

No sign, no light, our lives are growing old

I feel the winters growing cold

No sign, no light, no hope, growing cold



The dove of dreams is flying overhead

Her wings are spreading softly signs of dread

So cold inside the earthly bounds below

Singing out her somber tales of woe



Her sorrow covers me

The somber tales of old

The sorrow covers me

Tis somber tales of woe