The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land
Plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky.
A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers,
But awakes to a morning with no reason for waking
He's haunted by the memory of a lost paradise
In his youth or a dream, he can't be precise.
He's chained forever to a world that's departed.
It's not enough, it's not enough.
His blood has frozen and curdled with fright,
His knees have trembled and given way in the night,
His hand has weakened at the moment of truth,
His step has faltered.
One world, one soul,
Time pass, the river roll.
And he talks to the river of lost love and dedication
And silent replies that swirl invitation
To flow dark and troubled to an oily sea,
A grim intimation of what is to be.
There's an unceasing wind that blows through this night,
And there's dust in my eyes that blinds my sight,
And silence that speaks so much louder than words
Of promises broken.