green september

burned to october brown

bare november

led to december´s frozen ground

the seasons stumbled round

our drifting lives are bound

to a falling crescent noon



feather clouds cry

a vale of tears to earth

morning breaks and

no one sees the quiet mountain birth

dressed in a brand new day

the sun is on its way

to a falling crescent noon



somewhere in

a fairytale forest lies one

answer that is waiting to be heard





you and i were

born like the breaking day

all our seasons

all our green septembers

burn away

slowly we´ll fade into

a sea of midnight blue

and a falling crescent noon