I stare into emptyness
But I remember
I remember how the Morbid Frost use to glisten on the trees
The soothing sound of chiming bells
And the smell of spring
I remember it quite clearly

Time has caught up with me and there is not much to spare
The dead sun wears away
Guides on the parade marching along
We thought we were right
We were wrong

Blues skies turned dark
Waiting to spark in the light
Faithful men have lost their will
Over and over again
All the Holy clovers have now left