See the flowers in the distance
between the cold grey stones
Facing the white mountain slopes
of chapel in the valley
Love, please close the door
A cold wind moans
and chases the clouds
Carrying along their snow
But you closed the door
There's a fire burning for us
to keep us warm and safe for tonight
Hear the sounds and melodies
of rilets flowing down
They're the verlasting songs
whispering all the time
As a warning that behind some rocks
there's a rigid grap even
oreads fear the tread