Текст песни At Close of Day (Into That Good Night) - Hanging Garden

In these times
When sickness holds
A solemn pact with death
One did fall
Unto sickness
And shivering slumber

From darkest skies
This night unfolds
With the most gentle breath
Still does one fall
Unto that good night
From pain ever yonder

Oh heaven above, why
Is woe on misery piled
Under these skies
Should one more of us die?