The dogs days are dreaming of staying awake, Barking at the singers, lulling them back to dream state. The leaves are falling from the trees, trying to climb back up to where they belong. A Cathedrals bells are ringing, but nobody seems to be home.
The roads are empty and the wind is silent, Trees are dying and the cold is rising. Lies are finding ears and taking root in minds, My puppet strings are cut, but someone's still tugging my hope.