With a severed tongue a preacher preaches
And I am lost just like the verses meaning
For each thought of grief there stands a tree
In these woods forever reaching

Oh, am I awake or am I simply dreaming?
Or perhaps a ghost for a vision seeking?
Alas! Let the bell toll for my tired soul,
Mired in the depths of a dying season

Without a prayer, without a reason
Just the possibility of a higher being
And the highest hope of something holy
To believe in, to be in, freeing