You feel it's cold, you are growing old
Everybody knows, but never told
The forty winters are around
Your deep-sunken eyes did not really found
Never resting time leads summer on
Flowers and plants are nearly gone
Your memory is in walls of glass
You recognize the time that was
The winters come, don't count the time
When summers green, will not be mine
Against this end be well prepared
These stormy days are everywhere
Why do you hear, this music sadly?
Why can't you get the message gladly?
The harmony lost well-turned sounds
The speechless voices look for their grounds
The winters come, don't count the time
When summers green, will not be mine
Against this end be well prepared
These stormy days are everywhere