the red clouded sky only stares back like a wall
in these times of freedom to be
i have to return within a week
you have to wait until autumn to leave
and i can only wait for tomorrow's punishments
for falling down

in these days, in our words
in these chords played by our freezing fingers
there are no prophets among us
and i've lost my concentration again
and we're falling down

the end that approaches one day
will it be a crossing?
there are no prophets among us
if it will be a crossing
will we fail again?

(until we meet again
even if the stars fall in the sky
the treetops around us shall wave in breeze
until we meet again
even if the clouds are darker than never before
their rain shall not extinguish our bonfire
until we meet again)

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