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The leaves are falling
Once again we march
The north is calling
Grounded virtue of man
Mountains bleak
Crisp air fills the sky
Will we find what we seek
Before we all die
Under the harvest moon
I call for primordial freedom
Solice amongst the trees
Like a ghosts of the past
Holding many a tale
Will yours be the last?
Mesmerizing formations
Burning black coal
To reach and bury
The chaos of a longing soul
Instinctive fire
A sense of something real
Cleansing the angstridden flesh
Strengthening the steel
Freedom!
Freedom!
Freedom!
Under the harvest moon
I call for primordial freedom
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