The wind it turns away gives me a chance to have my say,
And my tears that fall are broken by the raging storm.
No stones been left unturned in the castle of the legions,
Not a soul that's not been burned in the elemental regions.
The silent breath of night is turned by early morning light.
Here and there a call, a spirit feeds your desperate soul.
Silver rain that falls and mighty waves the seasons.
Golden skylight calls and dream a million reasons.