This is folly said the kings of sunrise, Men are dying with their fears, realised, Where men fear to build, His mind had faded in his tomb of stone, Lips were withering, forgotten and old, Stillness enhances the overwhelming cold, Voices of the wild, tame tomorrow The days cut into the bark of trees, Years etched deep to roots of steel, Comforting was this thorn in his side, It pierced the skin only to poison his hide And yet this calling doubt in my mind, I am summoned, Into the storm we ride Be of the blood of the Earth, Where men of inconceivable worth, Born in the days of old, He rides on wings of cold, A sage of forgotten why? With white hair and wrinkled face, He satisfied his greed and gave into his need, To go where men fear to build Barred gate, way out locked, “Not Pathway, unfurl!” Upon the summit lay the throne of the worldTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
