Skepticism - By Silent Wings dalszöveg

Sweet is the air under the forceful wings 
Sharp is the gaze to read 
Reflections from distant lakes 
Whispers from distant woods 
Calls from distant mountains 
That brings summonings from the ones 
with the swords 

Come, carry the seeds 
Of storms 
Come, satisfy the lust 
and the craving 
Come, fleet, come 
By silent wings