| I’m alone the night wind’s blowing on my face
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| And the branches of the trees are crying
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| In the big empty of this night
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| Step by step along the shadow path
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| The black cloak of darkness opens the door
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| In the place of eternal silence
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| Wha strange emotions are striking my body
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| An obscure quiet is leading my mind
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| My hands are touching the wet trees
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| And the undergrowth is making my way blind among
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| The mossy stones in the realm of the dead
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| The old ivy-mantled gate is creaking
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| While I am opening the door of the whisper crypt
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| What a morbid force my soul has
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| A hidden god is leading my steps
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| I am going down is this wet stairs in the stiffing dark
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| Only the noise of a drop
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| Of water is stressing the passing time
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| I’m alone in this sepulcro
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| I humble being pieteously observe the men’s fragilty
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| Putrid bones put upon marble sacella
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| Are waiting for nothing
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| While the cobwebs are covering the ancient effigies
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| Everything’s resting in a monumental silence here
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| Everything is forgotten here
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| I alone in this sepulcro will bring these relics
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| Back to life with my profane action
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| This is a sacred profanation
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| That will give life to death
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| The eternal life of memory
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| Alone in this sepulcro |