| An old weak, grey man on the hill
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| Alone, sad he looks down, down the vale
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| He remembers the old days, shadows of past
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| The old days, memories he’s lost
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| He’s searching for reasons, recalling the past
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| For reasons, fractive remains
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| He has before his eyes
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| As the sky turned red
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| Changed the world it’s face
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| Naught was anymore like before
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| As the sky turned red
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| Fertile days were gone
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| Many moons raised and set since that time
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| Now he’s afraid of the return
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| He has settled life once and for all
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| He looks at the ruins of nature
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| Mankind’s work is done
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| Vermins stay behind the downfall
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| Weeds grow apace
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| Withered trees- degenerated
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| Desolated- tract of country
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| Storming clouds- Unnatural colour
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| Threatening, mystic phenomena
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| Birds flight away
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| With them our dreams
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| Years of destination
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| Took life away
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| Inactive all the time
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| Man’s sense of guilt
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| Now bones like glass
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| He never can take measures
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| (Sky turned red)
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| The omen strikes again
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| (Sky turned red)
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| The back of beyond
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| He has before his eyes
|
| As the sky turned red
|
| Changed the world it’s face
|
| Naught was anymore like before
|
| As the sky turned red
|
| Fertile days were gone |