Is it a kind of dream,
Floating out on the tide,
Following the river of death downstream?
Oh, is it a dream?
There's a fog along the horizon,
A strange glow in the sky.
And nobody seems to know where you go.
And what does it mean?
Oh, is it a dream?
Bright eyes,
Burning like fire.
Bright eyes,
How can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes.
Is it a kind of shadow,
Reaching into the night,
Wandering over the hills unseen?
Or is it a dream?
There's a high wind in the trees,
A cold sound in the air.
And nobody ever knows when you go.
And where do you start,
Oh, into the dark?
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