single tear from the elms 
 of emptiness falls to stain the cracked 

 Earth and the soil breathes one final, desperate, breathe of life. 

 Tiny budding flowers and colours of joy. 
 And hope explode from the water-bead. 

 Undying, undimming, 

 Before shattering to dust. 
 Before shattering to dust.

 These woods have no memory.
 Of the touch of sun, or the smell of dew. 

 And all I can hear through the 
 deafening silence are the moaning trees.

 It was Morrow who cursed this place.
 Now, cheerless and stagnant, it screams. 

 In the night so we hearken the cries. 
 From the heart of the wood.

 I linger on in doubt, [bad word] early down here. Wishing upon ages, these flowers will someday bloom.

 I'd wait here forever 
 Forever
 Just to see, just to see
 These flowers bloom

 They never bloom.

 You [bad word] betrayed us, 
 in these woodlands we wove, 
 dreaming amidst the groves. 
 Morrow, 
 No one could stop us. although, now the orchards no longer grow, 
 So I'll reclaim the throne of woe. 

 I'm starting to count the stars by myself, and this winter is eating away at my soul.

 I'll always remember the day 
 I was 
 stabbed in the back.

 I'll always remember the day 
 I was 
 stabbed in the back.
 in the back.

 Just like teardrops, the limbs of the dying trees began to fall, one by one.

 Just like teardrops, the limbs of the dying trees began to fall, one by one.

 Now let me sleep. Let me sleep, 
 In this garden that never blooms.

 single tear from the elms 
 of emptiness falls to stain the cracked 

 Earth and the soil breathes one final, desperate, breathe of life. 

 Tiny budding flowers and colours of joy. 
 And hope explode from the water-bead. 

 Undying, undimming, 

 Before shattering to dust. 
 Before shattering to dust.

 These woods have no memory.
 Of the touch of sun, or the smell of dew. 

 And all I can hear through the 
 deafening silence are the moaning trees.

 So here I will wait for the spring, In the garden of tears.
 If you listen in the night, you hearken the cries 

 from the heart of the wood.

 And so here I will wait, until my last dying days. 
 Wishing upon ages, these flowers will someday bloom.

 I'd wait here forever 
 Forever
 Just to see, just to see
 These flowers bloom

 They never bloom.