He was just a servant in the kingdom A place of birth where someday he would fall Was laid to rest upon a bloody Sunday Hurried inside the empty palace walls When he fell before the ancient ruler Victims for the freedom of the mass Oh we hear of those who came before us Shape of futures with them, broken hands I have longed to find her in the forest Dressed in white and ivy by her side The autumn clouds will gather all around her Bringing all the fogs she needs to hide She had many lives to live through seasons Hidden in the curtains of the room The golden sun will guide her through the winter A daylight sense upon her sleeping true