Over there that little mountain rises, while some dissolve into a plain. Time itself and falls in sadness, grain by grain ... "Time, my dear, all the wounds", the two-tongues echoes seem to say. But nothing, nothing here, this pain remains and will not go away.
"I went weak, as I grew old, and time itself has me slow ... And as I close my in sadness, a thousand seasons come and go ..."
Might enough to all and also cruel enough to reveal, but all the wounds and scars he carries neither nor kiss can ever heal.
Time nothing, nothing, nothing ... turns away and laughs. Leaves you half-broken and in defiance is only another scar ... (x2)
Call it "blind" how he is writhing, hours, centuries ... The pain it grows and glows in tides, unable to vanish, to cease ...
Time heals nothing, nothing, ... Pushes 'till diving into different flesh. Time nothing, nothing, nothing - Petrified with some unnameable shame...
"Time's claw, I am losing hold". They say: "There is no hope for you on earth. Time either still or maybe rushing ... - In any case it will turn out worse ..." Time is fleeting, time stands still, it for no-one and you are trapped within. But I do dream of the light - You're falling back into the left-hand side...
"How I wish what I was and rest in final peace ... But even the luxury of death can't cure the wounds that time cannot ..."