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Did God bestow his glance

Upon your battered back?

It always looks like rain when you look at the sky ,

So push your heart to the ground to keep it warm.

These laboured hands

know the taste of the soil

These sunken eyes

They had forgot the sun.

Heart marches on

To the rhythm of a season's change,

When the winter is done

It'll finally rest in a grave.

From deepest sea to the above

In search of innocence

That we have sold,

That we have lost long ago.

Mercyful time

Will wash our names away

We'll meet our fathers in the ground

Wither down

Wither down...