Under the darkened sky, where the willows wither away.
The sight of a desolate desert, is met by the roaring of waves.

Where the sands of time never shift, and life doesn't exist.
Lost in confusion with paralyzing delusions, I'm tranquilized alone in the mist.

Ingrained with faithless hatred, instilled within my weak withered heart.
I solemnly trek these hungering wastelands in search beyond the stars.

Can you hear them singing?  The willows and their songs.
They sound like angels bringing peace, slowly filling up my lungs.

I blink away the stars above and all the love that's left.
My world enveloped under the shadowy cloak of Death.

Can you hear the willows?  Their whispers and their songs.
They sound like angels bringing peace, they've been singing all along.