There is no relief from the autumn breeze
And the bleeding tree has already died
In the rape or reason and change of season
The rusty steel cable sways like an empty cradle
And it changes the time away
Far beneath is the bleeding tree
Paralyzed with stale breath
Born to live, is that my crime?
The mahogany weathered coffin
And it changes the time away
He died alone in the fleeting rain
All alone by the bleeding tree
He died like the ibis flies
Born to live, is that my crime?
Was born to breathe on borrowed time
I was born to live, is that my crime?