Lay in the shade
A day out, new moon hiding
Tomb turns around on breaking dawn
The dead man turns around in his grave
When the flowers stop coming
When the graves stop burning
The truth dawn on me, and shined on me

Germinating by the dull roots, April is the cruelest month
Truth tells that our soul can fight this cruel cycle
When the planets align, we look up instead of our red earth
It's an eclipse, right?