... and then she became older
 and left her friend in admiration
 studded with bitter tears
 sickening falls the colour
 taste for taste
 drowning in the nectar of clouds
 which pass the light
 blind and bleeding
 as the summer ever walks through winter's woods
 ... those tales ...
 stay far from me I lie to myself
 ... and still I wish
 I woke up again in the shining of help
 freedom and immortality
 I opened my hands and call for me
 ... but any beauty has its thorns
 in the empty pictures of your life
 surrounded by radiance
 in the dust of every little hope
 no one can see what happens in the end
 and you didn't want to see dry tears ...