Hazy Paradise
Chris Koerts, Hans Ziech
Pastures who used to be green
Perish in white seas
That even embrace
The slumbering trees like border marks
And from the paths
Just before the ivory figures
Who stand on guard
Like sombre tentacles
Oh hazy paradise
Pieces of fog vanish to flow together
Pieces of fog vanish to flow together
Pastures who used to be green
Perish in white seas
That even embrace
The slumbering trees like border marks
Pieces of fog vanish to flow together
Pieces of fog vanish to flow together