Silver glass trembles as the burning wind blows Murmuring songs to woe and dreams repertoire Its chiming rhyme whines for a while Throbbing each ears with absurd fears
Hearken, the silver glass that rings and gleams As the dry land rises above
Trapping us behind the silver window bars Deluded dimmed drowned and dreamt.
We are never free though out of prison We were never free though out of prison Even if the buried shines spring out again We will remain inside as its breathing winds
For others to breathe For others to think For us to corrupt others.