An old man is wandering the path of his life

Remembering his lovers lost in the past

In his youth he was brash, in his youth he was bold

A cocky young man, but that did not last

He hears the call of the nightingale, its song is so sweet

Would she draw him to his fate for that he does not know

He fears its luring call, like the sirens of old

That drew the poor sailors to their watery woe

I fear the call of the nightingale, fear its sad song

Drawing my heart's love in the tempest gloom

To succumb to its call, of this you should know

Will pull your poor soul to a mortal's doom

The tears that it weeps dripping in pools below

In the sky are the stars the clouds and the moon

It sees me, it draws me, and I cannot get away

That my end should draw nearer, I fear it too soon

Do you hear its calling, its drawing of you?

In the winter of our lives, blanketed with snow

It is whispering, beckoning, I warn you of this

That my heart is trapped forever, this I do know

My time on this Earth is fleeting at best

Would that I had, had foresight to know of my fall

I hear the nightingale in the mist of my life

No more of my wisdom that I can recall

I am that old man that walked on his path

Now on a rocky precipice looking out at the mist

One more step I did take into the infinite abyss

To embrace the nightingale in this last final kiss

If you hear a song out in the mist of your life

Hark of my words and of my guidance

Run back to your love as fast as you can

As for me, do not worry there is only silence