| Bathed in the rust of moon
|
| Is the death bed’s lullaby
|
| Sung so softly with the stars
|
| Reflected in her eyes
|
| It’s the blaze that beckons men
|
| Into the woods, of beaten path
|
| Is the sight of the fire that
|
| No maiden’s eyes should have
|
| Iron does as iron’s told
|
| And drinks of life’s red gold
|
| But shame won’t leave with dying breath
|
| The life that wants its own death
|
| And the forest hums its silent hymn
|
| Heard by those of solitude
|
| As mist it wells
|
| Up the brook’s dark banks
|
| Bewitched by there fir woods
|
| It’s the blaze that beckons men
|
| Into the woods, of beaten path
|
| Is the sight of the fire that
|
| No maiden’s eyes should have
|
| Iron does as iron’s told
|
| And drinks of life’s red gold
|
| But shame won’t leave with dying breath
|
| The life that wants its own death
|
| Bathed in the rust of moon
|
| Is the death bed’s lullaby
|
| Sung so softly with the stars
|
| Reflected in her eyes
|
| It’s the blaze that beckons men
|
| Into the woods, of beaten path
|
| Is the sight of the fire that
|
| No maiden’s eyes should have
|
| Iron does as iron’s told
|
| And drinks of life’s red gold
|
| But shame won’t leave with dying breath
|
| The life that wants its own death
|
| Iron does as iron’s told
|
| And drinks of life’s red gold
|
| But shame won’t leave with dying breath
|
| Iron does as iron’s told
|
| And drinks of life’s red gold
|
| The life that wants its own death |