Paroles de Through Fields of Peasant Graves

All roads lead north Whether dirt, stone or asphalt Some are hidden from sight And lay buried beneath the earth Some wind 'round trees Others up mountain sides Through fields of peasant graves With stone crosses raised high I stopped on such a road The Moon shone overhead I dug the soil by hand And found a hidden path In sleepless solitude I wandered Beneath the roots and barren ground Until my eyes were blinded by white The inverted Sun was bright upon my skin A grey Sun radiated With a cold ring of cobalt I touched the flame And was absorbed into the light I awoke upon the grass Under a cross of stone I laid there till the Sun died And the earth was swallowed whole All roads long forgotten And all had turned to ash Through fields of burning graves With stone crosses crumbled I stopped on such a road With nothing overhead I dug the ash by hand And found a hidden path