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There’s a blind man sitting by the fire

in a cold winter park

Mist is on the mountains

and glittering snow falls

In his hands a piece of bread

and a bottle of wine

From his lost eyes there glooms a cry

of forgotten times

His heart is empty, his thoughts have left him

his voice speaks hard, his hope has gone

And we people we’re not listening

to the cry of the blind man

We are sitting in front of our TV’s

and ignore the distant thunder

From our souls no spirit is coming

no warmth in our cold hearts

And when the blind man dies we don’t care

but be sure then we are dead too

His heart is empty, his thoughts have left him

his voice speaks hard, his hope has gone

There’s a blind man lying by the fire

his heart doesn’t beat but he is lucky at all

But what had happened to our minds

fear is in our eyes

Our hearts are empty

our thoughts have left us

our voices speak hard

and our hope has gone.