The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the landPlumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky:A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers,But awakes to a morning with no reason for wakingHe's haunted by the memory of a lost paradiseIn his youth or a dream, he can't be preciseHe's chained forever to a world that's departedIt's not enough, it's not enoughHis blood has frozen & curdled with frightHis knees have trembled & given way in the nightHis hand has weakened at the moment of truthHis step has falteredOne world, one soulTime pass, the river rollsIt's not enough it's not enoughHis hand has faltered.... .... ......And he talks to the river of lost love and dedicationAnd silent replies that swirl invitationFlow dark and troubled to an oily seaA grim intimation of what is to beThere's an unceasing wind that blows through this nightAnd there's dust in my eyes, that blinds my sightAnd silence that speaks so much louder that words,Of promises broken
