Besedila:
Whispering Forest

as the same the glowing moonlight reflects in my eyes whispering ... shadows a grotesque touch of the dead eclipse my way to await me whispering ... shadows whispers

Through this life of mine telling wanton lies saying sensless words laughing at my faults... Can I trust her? How? Vultures wait my fall cawing grief

Through the falling snow she gracefully flies. A sight not to be seen by awoken eyes. Every time when asleep, I chase her through landscapes. I still

hope for the death of the sun. See the rise of black godess, from the torment. It shades the land, leading you into the darkest side. Portrait this forest

dreams. Only an echo is here... A curse is laid on me, spelled by the past. My eyes can not see but I hear at last. Whispering of forgotten voices,

symphony, sad songs of the dying ones. I can hear the symphony, symphony of the dying swans. In darkened copse, are whispering shadows. From the blackened forest

leaves and the perfume of flesh on the murderous breeze to learn from the dark and the voices between This is my will... The forest whispers my name

eyes will always brighten the blue Chase your dreams, and remember me, sweet bravery 'Cause after all those wings will take you up so high So bid the forest

to differ also The ends meet the river's son So the ends meet the river's son Ours the story shall we carry on And search the forest of the sun We dream