Winter like a Swedish drama Sickly long and freezing cold And the sky is virtual now And the moon is deep and old The day begins with a sharp hook The plot is yet to be revealed But someone sews the funny masks For every soul whose fate is sealed In every act and intermission The buffet rings with clinking glass Forty thousand brothers wander Draping mirrors as they pass But now the end — the heroes fall Or they are caught in petty lies The lens is blurred and every detail Fades away before our eyes The darkness grows, the distance empties The wind is blowing nowhere fast The horizon tilts a little bit As a falling star breathes its last
