Из альбома: Walpurgisnacht
[Lyrics by E.A.Robinson (1869-1935)]
Dark hills at evening in the west
Where sunset hovers like a sound
Of golden horns that song to rest
Old bones of warriors underground.
Far now from all the bannered ways
Where flash the legions of the moon
You fade - as it the Last Of Days
Where fading, and all wars were done.