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The man and the ghost will meet again |
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In the night when it snows, never quiet, never cold |
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Hear their calling, lost lords to cast the ride, white spears in their hands, pointing towards the sky |
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The ancient echoes from the wielded jaws, the bones and the scales, the forgotten lore |
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The calm of the night, lighting the flame |
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In the night when they haunt the curtain shall fall |
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Heroes and fools, all together, all the same, statues of the restless |
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Gallery of the drowned and the pale |
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The man and the ghost will meet again on the marshes of the old, though silent when it snows |
