[lyrics by Andras Nagy and David Bowers]
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If these trees of old could speak,
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... oh the stories they could tell,
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a time when might sat high upon its mountains
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Those days of pride blew away with the wind
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But now silence rules this land
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and everything seems to be mute
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Only the streams are weeping mournfully
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but if you listen their cries you can hear they're whispering and say:
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"We will conquer what once was ours"
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Centuries pass and the trees of the forest have grown thicker and stronger,
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the snow sparkles in the winter sun, a raven perches high upon a snowy branch
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to view the landscape.
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As I walk along this winter path I think to myself will it ever be as it was
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when mighty people of long ago roamed these lands.
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When I cupped my hands to drink at a pool of water near a stream,
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I realized the answer was yes, for the wind blew the trees so the sun shone
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against the water and I saw my reflection,
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... I saw the portrait of a heathen.
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And I hear as the stream whispers...
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Land Of Silence
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| Sear Bliss |
