Miserable

To be guide for light the our way
Pull and take our pains and our illness bodies
The winged doors of the autumned land jingled of Prasia
The morning was alone and silent except raining
First,the time gone fast
Evening it was inertand the last,gone back
Remains only hands and eyes
To be guide for light the our way
Pull and take our pains and our illness bodies
the spear shadows,fall in your heart
And the mud rivers,will take away your fears to the far
the propellers alight his heart.