All the sounds of summer have died down
colors turning pale
and what used to be so good
to keep my mind on other things
is slowly growing stale
autumn is the season
when whithered dreams fall to the ground
and out there in the mist
I can see well-planned castles
shatter without sound
solitude can teach you
about what’s truly real
and what’s worth keeping
in the way you feel
so I wish I had known sooner
about strings and how things resonate
but visions they come to you so quickly
and the sound is always late
and soon it’s winter and you’re still away
and there’s nothing here to keep the loneliness at bay
and so I sit and play
songs to break the silence
voc, git, keys, add. drums: c.h.
music and lyrics © 2000: christoph herold
