Aerium (the). Song For The Dead King. Wanderer. Zeneszám

My lonely boat fluently drifts on the light waves
I'm trying to foretell where I will land.
I guess I'll never see the end of this fantasy
If I ever try.
Like sereous disease shapes change in the mist
I see only lie.

Now I don't know maybe I row right against the stream.
I want to hear familiar voice that takes me away from this dream.

Now there's no saying what's on that side of our lifes.
And no one can tell me how to penetrate through.
I guess I'll never know why Phoenix burning low
Rises from the ash.
A dream discarded dies hard, gones never come back.
Because of human flesh.

Only a few find the way through abrupt and jagged rocks.
Only the one has got the key fitting to all the locks.

My lonely boat will be the last followed this way.
And maybe I will be the last who knew the truth.
I guess I'll never be who will escape the sea
Of discarded dreams
I'm just a wanderer, who overcame despair and
Rowed against the stream.