| Night is nearing its closure
|
| The earth is yearning for the light
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| But the skies have frozen over
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| The sun of my heart cannot pierce the dark
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| To catch the whisper of the heavens
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| The black mountain pass must be sought
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| Where the beast of seelusion awaits
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| We won’t endure the cold and neither will the dawn
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| The bitter despair of their starving eyes
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| Has paved the road that I fear
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| In the greenest grove
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| Their savoir will never appear
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| Nothing I’ve learned holds its meaning
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| When the soul id cast out of its home
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| And the scars of my strength never deeping
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| The stars turn their heads from the tears I have shed
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| The key had always been my treasure
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| While the lock was the greater prize
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| The forest looks straight through the lies
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| I’ve kept inside
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| Open your eyes and feel no hate
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| Towards the darkness you hold
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| It will not be your fate
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| The sun may be far away from your crasp
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| But its flames will remain
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| Illusions of light never last
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| An oath I will make to the depths of my core
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| To die for those who cannot fight this war
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| To shatter the ice destroying our land
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| I’ll return the gold in hand or I’ll not return at all
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| Embrace the shadow
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| For its path you must follow
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| I close my eyes and I feel such hate
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| Will the darkness I hold become my fate?
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| The sun is so far away from my grasp
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| Will its flames still remain, when illusions of light fade so fast?
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| Will the dawn show its face?
|
| Or will its life I’ll forever chase?
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| The darkest path
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| Converge where the light will meet the ground
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| I hear no sound
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| And see no sign of fortune’s hidden rhyme
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| How strange it seems the at the edge of life
|
| I could find my way
|
| Cause for today, the road of frozon starlight
|
| I’ve begun
|
| How stands the glass around?
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| For shame you take no care, my boys
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| How stands the glass around?
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| Let wine and mirth abound
|
| The trumpet sounds
|
| The colors they do fly, my boys
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| To fight, kill or wound
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| As you would be found
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| Connected with hard fare, my boys
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| On the cold ground
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| Why, soldiers, why?
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| Must we be melancholy boys
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| Why, soldiers, why?
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| Whose business is to die
|
| What sighing? |
| Fye!
|
| Drink on. |
| drown fear, be jolly, boys
|
| Tis he, you or I
|
| Wet, hot, cold or dry
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| We’re always bound to follow, boys
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| And scorn to fly
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| Tis but vain
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| I mean not to upbraid you boys
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| Tis but vain
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| For a soldier to complain
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| Should next campaign
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| Send us to him that made us boys
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| We’re free from pain
|
| But should we remain
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| A bottle and kind landlady
|
| Cures all again |