There is a truth in my nightmare
There is a vigilance in my silence
There is a dream in my weakness
There is a distress in my loneliness

I live in the world of shadows
In this land of sorrows
I want to know
How to show
But can't see my own
I hold this thorn
Oh I believe in my own
Through this thorn

It speaks to me
About my old century
The years I've tried
To seek in my old me

Under the wings of fate
There is nothing left to hate
All my memories burnt in fire
And there is nothing left to desire

It speaks to me
About my old century
The years I've tried
To seek in my old me

As I stand by this grave
I can’t see the thing called brave
And want to drop this fear
As I weep these tears