Sitting in the center Of these stolen arts There is nothing so cold as the truth in your heart The plots and the plans like blowing sands Like nothing more than clouds from distant shores We strike the ground like falling rain We fly skyward to live again From here there is one way Wholly out and through There is nothing so hard As a chance for the truth The hopes and the fears fade from the years Like no more than a voice lost in the night Silent words once spoken Hear them once again There is nothing so still As the peace in our time The sights and the sounds of time worn down Like no more than a scream of echoes past We strike the ground, we fly...