Bay Laurel. Under A Clouded Sky. The Dying. Zeneszám

The light will fade in this day of sorrow.
A black candle shines before my eyes.
My thoughts are lonely and empty.
Tired I stare into the burning bright flame.
All light will cease. It's just a matter of time.
The day, the candle, the sun and the stars.

The dying is waiting for the fall.
The dying will leave the world without a hope in the
blackest dawn.

I drift away into the flame.
The candle is burning weaker.
Now it's almost gone and I meet the fear that I've hidden
from.
The ashes of torture fills the ground.
A blood red sky has turned to black.
Like everything will.

The dying is waiting for the fall.
The dying will leave the world without a hope in the
blackest dawn.