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"The time has come for giving up I have lost I wanted once to become what I cannot Why come to me so full of dreams? Well, go on With feathered keys You're mocking me I am locked It's easier to pine To pine But I can feel it Through the fields of graves A beating heart While Rolling hills are Roaming through my veins And open arms And all is full of smoke Ah pining… The words you speak Stir things in me that I thought Were gone Their faint white heat Melts centuries Deep in Frost I can feel it Through the fields of graves A beating heart While Rolling hills are Roaming through my veins And open arms And all is full of Hope Ah pining… "