Amidst the dreary and dismal night Caroline found the witch of Ptscholh A song she sings, the tune of death The light she brings, deep colored red
A deluge of grief Sliding through her spine
The silences within her song As beautiful as the graceful notes A fatherly memory now so blurred A motherly figure dimed in ache
A deluge of grief Sliding through her mind
A deluge of grief Sliding through her mind
Among gelid panes of ice In the white hiatus of winter With feet made of basalt the witch drawn near the little girl And stroked her oval face soaked in sorrow A blue ethereal light with which the forest was infused Snow-clad trees and fallen leaves where the only witnesses she needed
Among gelid panes of ice In the white hiatus of winter A quest you have in life, my little Caroline Across the forest you will find bellow the pristine light The mother of your mother will enlighten the dark path And through the windy trail your sharded heart
Beware of the white cross in which the fiery archers gather round You must avoid its glow at any costTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
