This Time by Wolfsheim
walking through winter, through snow-white fields
colder than cold ... for several weeks
and the lost fire's burning miles away
and the wind whispers stories in her ears
and she's asking: "do you hear these heavenly voices?
do you hear the preacher who wants you to pray?"
and this night so much colder than every night
and she says, she likes winter and winter-trees
and the sun seens so far away tonight
in the dark and deep, frozen water the light
of the moon under which she dies
of the moon under which we cry
...death knocking at the door ... I must let him in ...
life like a river flows ... outside ... stay alive!
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