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Listening the wind, that fights inside me

Tells me now, the fears that I see

He plays my soul thats why I know

Whisper his name, the master of fate

His hands are weak, his breath is the wind

And with it I fly far away, as far as I can

	I’m your saviour

	Play it for me, play the woodwinds

	I am the sound in your songs

	Master, listen to my cry

No time exits, when you create glory

No one exits, when you create time

And then you die, they forget, they cry

Children are born, now they have to carry

The burden of the wind, in their souls they bury

But his words live on, trough the sound.

So at the end, I see him again

Master of the wind, chained in his cell

He sits alone, his soul is gone

I grab his hand, try to free him

But he says: “No, it’s your time

To sing, to play, to cry, to die...”