| Wide fields ahead
|
| I feel the sun again
|
| Though there is no joy
|
| Coming over me
|
| The shadows cover up
|
| What darkness couldn’t see
|
| A million unknown strangers
|
| Have died but not for me
|
| Only the good ones die in summer
|
| Softly, as does no other
|
| Will they reach the perfect silence?
|
| Or roaming 'round a thousand miles?
|
| You will know…
|
| When you die in summer
|
| Straight ahead I make my way
|
| Through the madness in a day
|
| I gather all my sorrow
|
| With the sun beating down aside
|
| The shadows cover up
|
| What darkness would never be
|
| Slightly groping hands
|
| Reaching out for me
|
| Only the good ones die in summer
|
| Softly, as does no other
|
| Will they reach the perfect silence?
|
| Or roaming 'round a thousand miles?
|
| You will know…
|
| When you die in summer
|
| In the shadow of a dying tree
|
| I find myself
|
| Waiting for silence
|
| Desperation is my friend
|
| Only the good ones die in summer
|
| Softly, as does no other
|
| Will I reach the perfect silence?
|
| Or roaming 'round a thousand miles?
|
| I would know…
|
| If I died in summer |