Over mountains, across streams: No earthly mass can veil my dreams. She is the night; my dark bride; The only being for which I'd die.
Six hundred years; I have not slept, For her love; awake I kept. Beyond the lakes, the castle calls me Towards her graceful mystery.
The night calls me, Am I still dreaming? His words speak to me. Am I still screaming?
Through distant forests and fields, I crept swiftly and silently. At the gates my sorrows drowned; To look above at a gargoyle's mount.
I stole a rose from her dead garden, With the hope that it may charm her. But when I arose, I heard a wail, From an ugly figure in a dark veil.
All hope is gone, Am I still waiting? The end is near; The end is here.
Oh, how my heart bleeds To see her lifeless body, Gathering dust from centuries past. Now I must believe That I can go on hoping, Taking each day as if it were my last. But, my soul is crumbling, Everytime a tear falls, I die.
All hope is gone. Am I still waiting? The end is here; But I'm still alone.