Tekster: Danse Macabre. Grief.

If solitude follows grief
This heart of mine a wilderness
Splendid memories indeed hardly a relief
What comfort offers a last caress?
What comfort offers a last caress?

No more flowers to pick in May
Any words are all in vain
No more flowers to pick in May
Any words are all in vain

Love is a gift from Heaven
Lifts into grace our lowest desires
Shared with angels By Gods given
Like passion, a spark of immortal fire

This heart of mine a wilderness
This heart of mine a wilderness
What comfort offers a last caress?
What comfort offers a last caress?

But beautiful poems do not cover pain
In loss I cannot sense any splendour

Comforting words are all in vain
Yesterday's ghosts seem too tender

Tragedy grand in a theatre play
They claim sunshine to follow after rain
But no more flowers to pick in May
For death she is all the same

What comfort offers a last caress?
What comfort offers a last caress?

No more flowers to pick in May
Any words are all in vain
No more flowers to pick in May
Any words are all in vain