the southern cross provides
then buries them alive underfoot
the frozen days at fall
the burdening weight at work
belief in the cause
the light in august hides
the distance in our lives
weathered through the night
to carry what is mine
the wash of screendor haze
as autumn fades away to frost
the valley floor goes pale
the last of harvest baile
in wait for cold
the light in august hides
the distance in our lives
weathered through the night
to carry what is mine
