There was a time
Seems so long ago
In the bleak November
A winter funeral sun
We looked away
With eyes not of our own
Cold was the morning
And bitter was the chill
In the bleak November
A winter funeral sun
We looked away
With eyes not of our own
Where a distant flame did flicker
The empty hearth
Where the dusk falls deep obsidian
Beneath the weeping stars
Here was the time
Was it so long ago
In the bleak November
A winter funeral sun
We turned away
With eyes not of our own
The stream that leads
Through the cracked and barren moor
Until rising on the hillside
In solitary grey
Stands stark in the wilderness
A dank mist swirls the stone
Of the bleak house foreboding
Saw through eyes not of our own