Awaken in the silent night.
Alone, inland hysteria.
I am a stranger in this land.
Here I kneel before you.
Oh, solemn glory.
Standing together on the hill.
Nothing is spoken, but understood.
Below, a procession of wooden men.
Swinging their tree trunks in the wind.
The white birches are alive, they are marching.
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
