---

To the grim garden,
So cold and frozen,
Of the stone graves.

The fallen ones,
Where the moon darkens,
Lie beneath the ivy.

In the mists of despair,
And fragments of air,
Fly some lost souls.

I'm walking there,
At the edge of nowhere,
Enjoying their presence.

As the wind is sceaming,
The sky is dying.
The moon is sad.
The world is mad.

The ghosts that shake under us,
In the darkness of the caves,
Send us their spectral shadows,
Here, in the garden of graves.

To the dead garden,
So cold and frozen,
Of the stone graves.

The flying ones,
Where the moon darkens,
Lie beneath the grass.

In the screams of despair,
And fragments of air,
Fly some lost spirits.

I'm dying there,
At the edge of nowhere,
Enjoying their existence.

As the time is screaming,
My body is dying.
The moon is sad.
The world is mad.

The ghosts that shake under us,
In the darkness of the caves,
Send us their spectral shadows,
Here, in the garden of graves.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.