Wasted River

It Feels So Cold In A River Dark And Icy Cold
Shadows Upon Shadows, In A Sharp Line
All The Waste That Gently Floats By
Covers Me, Embraces Me
Slowly Squeezes The Life Out Of Me
The Moon Flickers High Above
For A Second or Two, Then Suddenly Die
There Is No Light As Bright
That Can Chase Away The Pale Night
Or The Emptiness That Makes Angels Fight