As you know, some stars that we see
might have already died. Maybe we're traveling through the dark alone,
as you know, from the distance things
are mostly hard to understand,
and we marvel at the glittering glow,
Cold, cold is the light that reaches us, and so old, old
and it doesn't get lost, nothing gets lost, it doesn't get lost
You see, their light shines equally bright at night
and at day, their absence and beauty is strange and rare
and words are helpless and comfort needs a lot of time
Cold, cold is the light that reaches us, and so old, old
and nothing gets lost, nothing gets lost