The mournful song of doves hangs in the air
As you wander through the trees,
With nothing but the sound
Of their lament.
You don't know how long you've lingered there;
Emptiness has brought you to your knees,
And all the strength you found
Is spent.
Life and death and sorrow caught you unaware;
The only way to find yourself and to appease
This fate, is to kneel upon the ground,
And repent.
There is something missing, something wrong;
You feel it in the darkness of your heart;
Aching somewhere deep and far away,
You know.
There was a time when you were strong,
But piece by piece, you slowly fell apart;
Now all your words are but to say:
I must go.
And so you wander to the mournful song,
Not knowing where to start;
Silent through another day
Of snow.
As you wander through the trees,
With nothing but the sound
Of their lament.
You don't know how long you've lingered there;
Emptiness has brought you to your knees,
And all the strength you found
Is spent.
Life and death and sorrow caught you unaware;
The only way to find yourself and to appease
This fate, is to kneel upon the ground,
And repent.
There is something missing, something wrong;
You feel it in the darkness of your heart;
Aching somewhere deep and far away,
You know.
There was a time when you were strong,
But piece by piece, you slowly fell apart;
Now all your words are but to say:
I must go.
And so you wander to the mournful song,
Not knowing where to start;
Silent through another day
Of snow.
