| Dawning spring when vows were spoken
|
| Summer flames are not meant to last that long
|
| When daylight fades away,
|
| make your mind up leave or stay
|
| The door’s tow open
|
| Autumn paints the skies of twilight
|
| Winter nights hide everything under snow
|
| Receding in the cold,
|
| dreams that can be bought or sold
|
| With faithless tokens
|
| And when the sun goes down
|
| I still hear you call my name
|
| Among these shattered bonds
|
| It’s too late to make amends
|
| You forsake your better angels on the battlefield
|
| Only broken hearts are real
|
| Cloaked in mist you hide your daggers
|
| Passed the hours from morning 'til midnight tolled
|
| Whilst faithful by my post,
|
| I can hear the mournful ghosts
|
| Of swains departed
|
| Can we bridge the distance between us,
|
| if you spend your nights on the run?
|
| By the river wraithlike whispers make me shiver
|
| When you trample logic and reason,
|
| treason can be seen from afar
|
| Monster, sneerer, creeping, crawling, coming nearer
|
| And when the sun goes down
|
| I still hear you call my name
|
| Among these shattered bonds
|
| It’s too late to make amends
|
| You forsake your better angels on the battlefield
|
| Only broken hearts are real
|
| Angels on the battlefield
|
| Only broken hearts are real…
|
| I turn my head and see you slipping away
|
| And when the sun goes down
|
| I still hear you call my name
|
| Among these shattered bonds
|
| It’s too late to make amends
|
| You forsake your better angels on the battlefield
|
| Only broken hearts are real
|
| I’ll pay the ferryman so you cross the Acheron,
|
| You call my name; |
| echoes of the past still remain
|
| You forsake your better angels on the battlefield
|
| Only broken hearts are real |