When our clocks strike midnight,
cold despair fills the air,
from witching hour till sunrise.
I’ll wander the world,
I’ll walk through summers,
I’ll dance through autumns,
I’ll sleep in springs.
But in winter the grim reaper will come to take us all away.
So I’ll wander these floors through my midnight despair till dawn awakens again.
But through my mind,
through my dreams,
through my life I still wonder.
Will death still be willing to take me again?
