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So I sang my song
of lament and fear,
of the very thought
that we'd never be near.
I sang a song
and the muses cried;
I sung to the Gods
of how you had died.
And that cold, hard man,
whose gaze pierces all lies,
bent down and granted my wish,
tears shone in his eyes
as he said:
"Follow this path,
keep looking ahead.
Walk forward and onward
out of the land of the dead.
And when you reach life again
she will be found
right by your side,
but until then, don't turn around."
So I began to march;
it was easy at first,
but then I questioned,
I began to thirst
for just one look;
we were close to the end
and I thought no one would mind
so I turned around and...
I saw you there,
drifting away.
I failed, failed
to make my eyes stay
on the road ahead.
They strayed behind
now you're lost
never to be mine.
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