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Where's the summer? Where's the sun? |
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Mute the violence, mute the drums |
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Up from Highland, down to Plum |
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Here November hopes were high |
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You said you would and so did I |
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You climbed the stairs and waved goodbye |
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And down below the rainy street |
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The drawl of car wheels on autumn leaves |
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I'm full of doubt, still I believe |
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'Cause if you're lucky there comes a bloom |
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That folds the night and fills your room |
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Your victory waltz, your never too soon |
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Gone, gone |
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Gone, gone, gone |
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Should we return what we became? |
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To be so fearless, to be so brave? |
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The loss in loss has never changed |
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Entire lives have gone oppressed |
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And this is surely safe to guess |
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The ghost of living is worse than death |
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And down below the lonely street |
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And far from there the silver sea |
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And further still you from me |
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Gone, gone |
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Gone, gone, gone |
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Gone, gone |
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Gone, gone, gone |
