Текст (слова) песни: Mythopoeia - Oldmen Of Desert
Ravens are circling in middle of head Stones of desert are crushing a solitude Old stem is oscillating in distance Blowing traces is derecting at a place Blowing wind is changing face of the days White river rests in silence Stones belong to tumulus of tommorows Hiding place of meditation is dilating the swell Visions of wise ones are drowning tears Falling dew in the hairs of oldmen Reminders of life are circling in middle Light of fires on the way of hearing Touches are streaming from the interior of cavities Gods is opening brow of dawn Roar is dying down in the echo of horns Palms are puting together by desire of flaming
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