I was but a child to that calming cornfield
My hands gliding, gazing on your tender blessed bield
Too weak to hold onto, your wonder filled wisper
As it echoed through me, ever brisker
.
But, fate had foretold our fortune
A glimpse of tearful joy, damning distortion
Clocks of sorrow had seeped their sands
On our hourglass built from bleeding bands
.
Still, sweet serenades had left seeds
To hands weighed by dire deeds
I listen still to those aching echoes
Even as those fields blister me now with arrows
.
Cultivated, cried for another
But silence had no bother
Faint, coming down now but locusts
Bringing it all out of focus
.
Superficial sirens had sung their soiling songs
On our heart, once in glammer filled golds
Still I block those banal births
Seeds of sorrow set on our firths
.
Forever I will be, a child to that calming cornfield
My hands will ever be grazing, gazing on your tender blessed bield
Weakness will wither to the hold of your wonder filled wisper
As it echoes through me, ever brisker
Song by – Hans Zimmer
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