Автор: Mr. Strange

Harvest the field of time With the old man’s scythe The narrow path of the chosen one Reaches beyond life

Die! We die! Just die! Everything and someone Deep in my troubled mind Ain’t that a switch just to get

I was down, I was up Broken and unbound What went up came down And hit me hard to the

My chains are paper thin and they’re welded with ink Sealed inside a legal trap, so tight blood don’t leak

When night falls she cloaks the world in impenetrable darkness. A chill rises from the soil and contaminates the air

Before all things reborn again You learn the painful breath of time Cold morning stretches out your arms To the

Roddin hun hvislar pukinn fer á stjá I hummu læðist lævis er hann sá Andanum ognar eg aldrei atti von

Crossed the valleys the dust of midlands to search for the third key to open the gates Now I’m near

On this letter A great flood of tears will fall But it’s better A last farewell to recall It’s been