They come not for consolation, not for guidance
Across dark waters, unconsecrated.
Their foreboding scents, sweet and full and heavy like wine,
They persistently follow a distant fate of loneliness.< br/>Look, they are standing on the path, they are standing on the path
Pale as the snow, full of hope.
They are standing on the path, they are standing on the path,
with dry and wide With open eyes
they stand on the path.
Every action stunning and unrecognized,
every look exciting and unbanned.
The transformation always from this
Beauty nity extends into the next.
Whoever leaves leaves his warmth to others,
as if he were paying off a final debt.
Look, they are standing on the path, they are standing on the path
Blue as the snow, full of hope.
They stand on the path, they stand on the path,
with dry eyes and wide open
they stand on the path.< br/>They are standing on the path
Blue as the snow, full of hope.
They are standing on the path, they are standing on the path,
with dry and wide-open eyes
Stand by the way.
What has their empty hands, sexless, beautiful and unrecognized
Mourning for those once seen, no angel was ever sent by God.
Look, they stand by Away, they are standing on the path
They are standing on the path, they are standing on the path
Look they are standing on the path, they are standing on the path
with dry and wide open eyes
Standing on the path, they are standing on the path,
Pale as the snow, full of hope.
they are standing on the path
Look, they are standing on the path, they are standing on the path
are pale as the snow, full of hope
They stand on the path, they stand on the path
are pale as the snow and full of hope
they stand on the path

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