These words, I would think that they came from the angels,
the messengers holy of mightiest God
and then I would pray to the Son and the Maiden
However my language it seems they forgot.
And then I would think that the Devil himself ...
Walking slowly… through the burnt down trees
I sing softly, I sing… a Gothic song in the lees
I can’t really sing, so I imagine everything
The words, the melody and the broken string…
I want to stay here forever ...