| Counting the winters, numb to the cold
|
| Searching the valley, for secrets untold
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| The mountains are children, to someone so old
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| A king without kingdom or throne
|
| Digging the mud and the stone
|
| All men have left here
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| But you have remained
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| At the banks of the river, forever the same
|
| Though no water flows here, the memory stays
|
| As long as it stays you are here
|
| Heart broken year after year
|
| People running away, running like strangers day after day
|
| Leave him alone
|
| Golden river running from her home
|
| The sun was an altar, before reaching out
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| And raised up the dagger, that hung from his belt
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| He cursed his delusion and the sadness he felt
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| Weeping at what he’d become, just a fool in the gold of the sun
|
| People running away, running like strangers day after day
|
| Leave him alone
|
| Golden river running from her home
|
| Golden river running from her home
|
| Golden river running from her home
|
| Golden river running from her home |