As the daylight burns the dark, The scars will heal within... In the frail falling of fast words, The empty space will call your name... And when you'll turn towards the unknown, You'll see a trace of burning dust... Dress like a bride, or for a funeral pyre, That's the shape of a bitter goodbye... We're fragile and weak, Maybe too young to seek... Every day has its dawn, As ashes, we come, and we go, Like a falling and burning storm Here we are ready to go The empty space will call our name... We'll find a place where we can rest, You'll find some rest on my chest... So dress like a bride, or for a funeral pyre, That's the shape of a bitter goodbye... We're fragile and weak, Maybe too young to seek... Every day has its dawn, Like every night has its tomb...