Resting... Though the heart not pounds Feelings are still alive but somewhere else In that belief we watch over the dead Standing aside their graves Talking to a molten stone Trying to understand the reason Why their hands aren't warm I saw the stately men in robes walking from the forest Their empty and childish eyes So sad and mourning with us They take the soul away Every year at the first light of spring With the soft wind blowing through my hair I lay the rose upon her grave In hope that she'll return to me someday Hand in hand they wander across the great rainbow Far away from worry they'll be safe In a land where fear is not existing She's like me, she never wanted to be Purified in the fountain of lies Her rage could not be wiped away Now escaped from the light and it's dream angels I saw her riding towards me on thunder clouds I laid the rose upon her grave And now she has returned to me