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All the eyes are downwards All your fumble words are spent Paying no attention To the thoughts of you dear friend No point louder It's out of my powers Sinking deaper Futher each hour My god When our flowers fade them When our stem begins to fold I will take off quietly Like a bird that flees the cold No point louder It's out of my powers Sinking deaper Futher each hour My god (Thanks to Jack for these lyrics) From Letras Mania