Early is the mourning
Of the glory that shall pass
Cold is the forelorning
As I dream of the past

In the days of old
The knights were still bold
Now its foretold
That the nights will be cold

This chivalrous knight of mine
Rides in with winter wind
Freezing the vine
And my heart in the end

I'll wake in the morning
To find that glory has past
The nights are freezing
And cold hearts
         Cant last