Interpret:

At the Gates

Album:

With Fear I Kiss The Burning Darkness

Look the herons in the green billed water
 Their wet-ash wings wear medallions of patience
 We drift on...


 We have stories as old as the great seas
 Break through the chest
 Flying out the mouth
 Noisy tongues that once were silenced
 All the oceans we contain, coming to light


 All the dark birds rush from the river
 Leaving only the stillness of their language
 There are no clocks to measure time
 But the beating of our single hearts
 You will know it is winter
 By the way your dreams tremble like stones
 When the wind comes through
 The wind, full of hearts that beat quick and strong