A subtle gentle breeze from over A dark black mountain the wind starts to blow Omens the advent of uncertainty, A calm death lies unpleasantly Rowing this time, rowing for my life, Rowing. Is this how it all begins? Way far from the sun. Should I go on? Death seems near, whispering "Come on dance with me my friend You have never ceased to be And never will, You do know "death" It's just a word, right? "