the lonely man plays the symphony of ages,
and ash drifts in the air like a winter song.
an angel sits by them stars; far away from a mortals reach,
and the road to the end feels so lost and long.




I keep you sheltered in my soul,
scattered pieces too brittle to hold.
I feel your longing, I feel my cold.
that sets in every corner; there's no place left to hide no more.

trees sway in the autumn breeze; bare and naked, dark and old.
the man plays on the symphony,  as the angel begins to cry.
her tears raining down from the night sky, piercing through the mans soul.
far from the horizon you can see a star fall and die.


I will feed on our memories and the thirst will never end,
only fuel the torment burning deep within.
my mind is going in a hundred different directions,
I don't know how much more I can keep it in;
before I become a monster.





the symphony tears through the emptiness of the sky,
and the angel begins to fall in the rhythm of his heart,
as the symphony played, there were no more truths and lies;
only hell and heaven, night and day, life and death to keep them apart.




nothing will remain of us as we move away,
maybe it's true, it wasn't me and you; but we have nothing to remind us with,
it wasn't the world, it wasn't our hurt,
tears of love; tears for love did it.