Cold

In the garden at night
The whispers of dawn
Someone is at the window
When the day is nearly gone
The memories go as far as
The wanderer's eve is willing to reach
The moments are real
The textures are alive

Like the beginning
Like the end

In the garden at night
The whispers of dawn
Someone is at the window
When the day is nearly gone
The memories go as far as
The wanderer's eye is willing to reach
The moments are real
The textures are alive

Like the beginning
Like the end

The memories go as far as
The wanderer's eye is willing to reach
The moments are real
The textures are alive

Like the beginning
Like the end