the southern cross providesthen buries them alive underfootthe frozen days at fallthe burdening weight at workbelief in the causethe light in august hidesthe distance in our livesweathered through the nightto carry what is minethe wash of screendor hazeas autumn fades away to frostthe valley floor goes palethe last of harvest bailein wait for coldthe light in august hidesthe distance in our livesweathered through the nightto carry what is mine