Fallen from grace My soul's grown old Birds are dying as fading light draws last mourning beam Across the hillside Dark moors lay cold And quiet this night Blackbirds crying As freezing moon lays cruel deathly beams Through your minds eye Elegy of what these open wounds may bleed All alone with hatred growing unborn seed
Fallen from grace My soul's grown old Birds are dying as fading light draws last mourning beam Across the hillside Dark moors lay cold And quiet this night Blackbirds crying As freezing moon lays cruel deathly beams Through your minds eye Elegy of what these open wounds may bleed All alone with hatred growing unborn seed
