And I drink from holy waters
And I read from forbidden wisdom
The Catechism carved on the trees and stones!
And then by the aeons
I will become a ghost
Ghost of mountains
A mist of the swamps
A mist on the hills
A mist upon the lakes
And when the snow will come
And when the hills will fall into blizzard dreams
I'll stand near the frozen river
Far beyond deep in the mountains
And I will cry
Cry with the burning nostalgia
Longing for a time of grace
Time of sun, moon and mists
Time of storms and time of rains
And as a ghost I will look on the
Icy hills with despair
