| Song | Burnt Letters |
| Artist | Old Silver Key |
| Album | Tales of Wanderings |
| Behind your window the town is falling asleep. | |
| My path is ed with stars in a pre-dawn sky... | |
| Your room is flooded with spring morning sunlight | |
| My steps are hidden by December snowstorm | |
| With an old white feather, drowned in raindrops | |
| I write you letters on October leaves. | |
| The winds will retell them to you in dreams | |
| and spring will weave into your hair the song of May |