From Her Lips

The leaves are falling from life The cinders are at fall This growing cold tear us apart If the fire could burn Showed you a way home Where only dead flowers are shown In the snow, under the frozen sky We'll dance my beautiful Follow me She said, as we hide I am yours and you are mine Faces of phantomine Formed in tomorrow's ashes Fainted smiles of white In timely spring with its sweet air Like black roses that once grew so fair Our footsteps will show In the snow, under the frozen sky We'll dance my beautiful Follow me She said, as we hide I am yours and you are mine