When my dusk is drawn in the twilight's gleam
A tear does fall in silent stream.
When I raise my eyes for to see the light
I go through the shadow's vastrous might.
And I won't see when the morning redeems the sad voice of
the tender night
A sad voice, and it seems like some whispering of good-bye.
When my destiny emerges from the other side
There is no place for me to hide.
When I close my eyes for to never dream again
Think of me every now and then:
And I won't see when the morning redeems the sad voice of
the tender night
A sad voice, and it seems like some whispering of good-bye.
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