Tracks in the snow
 Mark the tragic journey
 Bit by the cold
 As the moon's phase is turning

 Dead leaves crunch under feet
 Leaving a state of peace
 Echoing darkness
 Losing sight
 Losing light

 Reaching behind, an abundance of hands
 An effort to prevent this lonely soul
 From meeting a familiar fate

 The pleads
 Lost in elm
 Turn back
 Leave this realm

 The smell of freedom
 The taste of imprisonment

 Lyrics Missing

 Winds howl
 Spirits scowl
 Upon the mortal trespassing their sacred lands
 The smell of freedom
 The taste of imprisonment
 Hangs in the air
 Like the fog clinging to the trees
 The moon red above
 Bleeding through the leaves

 Like the fog clinging to the trees
 The moon red above
 Bleeding through the leaves