Paroles de Mysticism
Black eye-sockets of the forest miresStaring in the distant icy edges
And into the sky and crystal stars
That still treasure wisdom of the ages
Ancient world is muffling up its bones
And revealing secrets just to me,
Sleeping to the music of the horns,
Hoping for the better times to be
Sleeping to the music of the horns,
Hoping for the better times to be
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