I leave my heart with you, my dear.
As omen rains pour cold and drear,
The nightingale must sing unfed.
When blind men lead, to death we're steered.

A vengeful storm will soon appear.
An endless snow, the dark we feared.
My soul still yearns for life ahead.
My faith in man does persevere.

The end is nigh. The night is here.
The light we must amend, my dear.
Engulfed in rot and slow decay,
My will endures; my soul endears.