Green September

Burned To October Brown

Bare November

Led To December's Frozen Ground

The Seasons Stumbled Round

Our Drifting Lives Are Bound

To A Falling Crescent Noon



Feather Clouds Cry

A Vale Of Tears To Earth

Morning Breaks And

No One Sees The Quiet Mountain Birth

Dressed In A Brand New Day

The Sun Is On Its Way

To A Falling Crescent Noon



Somewhere In

A Fairytale Forest Lies One

Answer That Is Waiting To Be Heard





You And I Were

Born Like The Breaking Day

All Our Seasons

All Our Green Septembers

Burn Away

Slowly We'll Fade Into

A Sea Of Midnight Blue

And A Falling Crescent Noon