Pinesong

The time has come for giving up

I have lost

I wanted once to become what

I cannot

Why come to me so full of dreams?

Well, go on

With feathered keys

You're mocking me

I am locked

It's easier to pine

To pine

But

I can feel it

Through the fields of graves

A beating heart

While

Rolling hills are

Roaming through my veins

And open arms

And all is full of smoke

Ah, pining

Ah, pining

Ah, pining, ah

The words you speak

Stir things in me that I thought

Were gone

Their faint white heat

Melts centuries

Deep in

Frost

I can feel it

Through the fields of graves

A beating heart

While

Rolling hills are

Roaming through my veins

And open arms

And all is full of

Hope

(Ah, pining...)

Ah