Rome - The Pyre Glade lyrics

They have come to burn the orchards They have come to burn the seeds But the quicksands of denial Are no fertile grounds for such deeds And we walk in stray shafts of light To the pyre glade The plea is still in your eyes What a fine father you would have made Now you'll be buried in your soldier's tunic And not many will attend For what flowers would one pick For a god who has met his end And we who are not yet fallen Remain grouped among the distant trees Our cheeks still flushed with funeral wine A bloodless oath, a black winter tulip And some gentians to complete the bouquet Your d**h has made me an accomplice It has made us all recall the day Your life remained but a flash In a spark of black fire Blot out all hesitance now, brothers Blot out all doubt For something is already slipping away For something is already slipping away Mit uns die Sonne, mit uns das Meer Mit uns die Sonne, mit uns das Meer