Tears of lost perfection
to the plague of beauty
inspired me to sing
despite of everything
the voice of a growing tree
silently free, silently free.

From my dead garden the song rose
from where the waters froze
I saw the blood-red rose
I saw the blood-red rose.

The cynic with his umbrella
under which the liar calls
another liar for a liar
now values come and tomorrow they go
this was the true word the liar told
"prepare yourself for everything!"

Tears of lost perfection
to the plague of beauty
inspired me to sing
despite of everything
the voice of a growing tree
silently free, silently free.