The last bird from a scattered flock
seeks shelter in a tree
alone amongst the lonely woods
he will cry when noone hears
he will fall when noone cares
palls of grief hanging in the clouds
what must go wrong, so that we see
there's not enough to make us stop
we are the devils of a dying land
what evil spirit holds us here
we wear a careless mask
making friends with death
we are devils of a dying land
mankind took all nature's pride
mercy out of sight
demons dark around us swarm
forests' last time
the short last sound of singing birds
we don't know what it means
will we ever know?
a world where iron shells
can kill men's blood
a world of emptiness,
a dying land
Your hand ran over me I got your sympathy But now you broke my neck I feel it in my head I see it in your eyes I feel it in my head See, you're feeling cold It's cold inside of you I'm almost sure You don't know what you do But now I turn from you Don't want to be your fool Nomore for you to beg See, you're feeling cold, It's cold inside of you My frozen heart nomore for your to feel Cold... cold... cold Receive but what you give In your my devil lives I wish you all the worst You feel it in my head I see it in your eyes You feel it in your head
