Sial sings songs south of the river Sial the sage Sial serves voices so strangely they seem Sial the mourner There are no challengers here To his strange mystery In the ages when his wild angels were wandering South of the river to the cemetery calling Out of the wild wilderness wandering The forest of bones amid the wild wolves howling Lately in mourning south of the river Sial the angel Sial the sage of the ages is calling He wanders no more He watches and waits through the wind And the wild storm All through the lands of the lilting lovers The babies of angels Their sons and their daughters Following, following down through fields they wandered The forest of bones amid the wild wolves howling Sial sings songs south of the river Sial the sage Sial serves voices so strangely they seem Sial the mourner He watches and waits through the wind And the wild storm Sial the sage of the ages is calling Sial the angel Sial the sage, the mourner, the angel He wanders no more He wanders no more