Orijinal sözler
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Left frozen in an eloquent November's mist
We stand naked waiting for December to rise.
Bloodsoaked in love as we yearn for lust
And we die in our frostbitten memories.
I take my final walk between the bare trees
When dawn strikes, I'll return to my field.
This is where I gaze upon the eyes of you
And empty trees will be bleached with winter.
