Mist curls over ancient stone Where no living eye has gone The mountain breathes a frozen sigh And something stirs beneath the sky... Above the world where mortals dare not climb The ancient black stone rises through the grey A silence older than the birth of time Has swallowed every word the living say No fire burns upon the frozen peak No footsteps mark the endless field of white The clouds descend like ghosts of those who seek And vanish into cold eternal night Beneath the weight of centuries of stone A heartbeat slow as glaciers, deep as earth He dreams of skies he once called his alone Of kingdoms turned to ash before our birth Clouds over the mountain, shadows without name Black stone and white silence, nothing is the same The wind is the only voice that dares to call And cold is the only queen who rules it all His scales like silver beneath the snow His breath a pale mist curling through the crack A thousand years of dreaming, soft and slow And no one left remembers when he'll wake The ravens do not land upon that place The wolves turn back before the treeline ends Some things were carved before the human race To sleep until the very mountain bends The clouds remember wings that split the air The storms remember thunder not their own The echo of a roar hangs frozen there A sovereign in his alabaster throne Clouds over the mountain, shadows without name Black stone and white silence, nothing is the same The wind is the only voice that dares to call And cold is the only queen who rules it all No torch. No bell. No pilgrim's prayer Only the wind... and it does not care Only the stone... and it will not break Only the dragon... who will not wake Clouds over the mountain, eternal and grey Black stone remembers what time cannot say The wind is the only hymn, cold is the throne And he who sleeps beneath... sleeps alone Alone… Alone… The mountain holds its breath…
