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letra de the wastelands - nuclear winter

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i lent upon the gate
when frost was spectre-grey
and harvest lands were desolate
in the weak eye of day

the tangled vine stems that scorched the sky
the ancient pulse of birth was sunken hard and dry
and every spirit upon the world was fervourless

the lands sharp features seemed to be
the century’s corpse out lent
the crypt, the cloudy canopy
the wind, the death lament
upon the growing doom
the impending sound trembled through

now when the light is leaving
no life from the night’s mist
and echoing through the wastelands
night crushed out the day

the crypt, the cloudy canopy
the wind, the death lament
upon the growing doom
the impending sound trembled through

- nuclear winter

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