My soul's grown old
Birds are dying
As fading light
Draws last mourning beam
Across the hillside
Dark moors lay cold
And quiet this night
Blackbirds crying
As freezing moon lays cruel
Deathly beams
Through your minds eye
Elegy of what these open wounds
May bleed
All alone with hatred growing
Unborn seed
Fallen from grace My soul's grown old Birds are dying As fading light Draws last mourning beam Across the hillside Dark moors lay cold And quiet this night Blackbirds crying As freezing moon lays cruel Deathly beams Through your minds eye Elegy of what these open wounds May bleed All alone with hatred growing Unborn seed Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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