Come, my friend, to the land of gold Where the sky is high, and the trees are old Where the river floats in the silver lining And shines Step, my son, to the valley a bit When the sky turns dark, and the breeze get fresh When the endless wind is blowing in your face
We hear the voices from the grave We hear the voices from the grave We hеar the voices from the gravе We hear the voices from the grave inside We hear the voices from the grave We hear the voices from the grave We hear the voices from the grave We hear the voices from the grave inside We hear the voices We hear the voices We hear the voices We hear the voices from the grave
(We hear the voices) In the fire we cry, the whispering we hear Rising from the darkness Running down your spine Like a meaningless echo, echo, echo From the bottom of the ground, yeah (We hear the voices) In the fire we cry, the whispering we hear Rising from the darkness Running down your spine Like a meaningless echo, echo, echo From the bottom of the ground, yeah
Come, my friend, to the river of love Where the clouds are mirrors, up above Take off your fears, take off your fears And die Come, my brother, with no tears To the land of rest with no fears And hear the wind whistle in your ears, eh, eh
(We hear the voices) In the fire we cry, the whispering we hear Rising from the darkness Running down your spine Like a meaningless echo, echo, echo From the bottom of the ground, yeah (We here the voices) In the fire we cry, the whispering we hear Rising from the darkness Running down your spine Like a meaningless echo, echo, echo From the bottom of the ground, yeah Like a meaningless echo, echo, echo, echo, echo, echo Running down your spine Like a meaningless echo, echo, echo, echo, echo, echo Running down your spineTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.