It's black - as coal The language of silence The nothingness, dark as the crow's gown The feather of the crow falls dumb and quietly down In the grass you are laying in It's black as coal To be afraid and intrigued at the same time To look at the moon To catch the beams with your eyes To protect you against the nothingness The wind plays the song of your innocent soul Your true self is painted on your face It's grown pale by the moonlight The soft vibration of the grass Will be reflected by your hands A tear will show happiness and fear A symbol of their own captivity