Amorphis

Sorrow is my bread
And tears I drink as wine
Oblivion my happiness
Ground under teeth of time
For cold be the stone
When frost ve devoured the land
Consolation is no gift
Of winter's icy hand
Upon a crust of snow
I'll lay my broken frame
What steel and iron won't take
I'll give in winter's name
No good a sullen sout no use a simple knave
No groom for brides of plaited hair
This man old and lame