November (Overture) Testo

drifting into shore among the driftwood in the river closer to the door your sun is sinking in the west, the voices say it's for the best two faces falling towards the world breathe with the wind, bleed like the stone come down again, the water is gone try as you might you couldn't reach the fragile edge of Salem's beach and nothing moves and nothing changes nothing grows where you have been november... november...