Angra
Spell
Bad winds...
Small breeze...
Hollow ice...
Autumns now shall shine...
Oceans...
Moveless eventide...
Far away from sight...

From the moonlight bring up dreams
Straight from hands to thee

Old born town
On the streets
Nights, Games, Fantasy

My dreams and thoughts and fate
The balance's at your feet
Oh angel born too late
For foreman to meet

For live with emotions must I dream to think you're mine
What purity I've lost so tender as the wine

In what muse senses froze this?
Could the lights feel weak?
But dreams are far to me
The balance's at your feet
Oh angel born too late
For fallen men to meet

What pure emotions must I dream to think you're mine
What purity I've lost so tender, I should find...

Around my careless world, I dream to think you're mine
What purity I've lost, so tender and divine?

What purity I've lost !oh thee! to think you're mine
Down to the falling leaves that are brokened throught the dance
Around my caresless words I'd dream to think you're mine
Oh! What a purity I've lost...