| Tears in the morning
|
| Her weeping lasts long
|
| And I pass
|
| The iron gateway
|
| The birch in the garden
|
| Bent down with its branches
|
| Shivering
|
| In a breezy wind
|
| And I know about her shattered dreams
|
| And hidden doubts, and hidden fears
|
| And I know about her shattered dreams
|
| And hidden doubts, and hidden fears
|
| My feet carry on
|
| To the fields of disgrace
|
| Where the cold winds blow
|
| Where the crosses grow
|
| Wreaths of oak-leaves
|
| Are silently withering
|
| Torn apart
|
| Lost in the dark
|
| And I know about their shattered dreams
|
| And hidden doubts, and hidden fears
|
| And now I know about their shattered dreams
|
| And hidden lies, and hidden fears
|
| I gaze through the twilight
|
| In fields of despair
|
| Unaware of pain
|
| In the falling rain
|
| The birch trees remind me
|
| Of the one in the garden
|
| Marbled graceful towers
|
| With sulphur flowers
|
| And I fall at the break of dawn
|
| And comrades fade with faces torn
|
| And I fall at the break of dawn
|
| And comrades fade with faces torn |