Ominous clouds overcast the land
My summerwine is gone
The gruesome breeze of decay
Sharp and cold, like ice into the heart

And all that was left is shattered dreams
Scattered on the floor
Quicksand through the hourglass
A postcard delayed, a landscape full of glories

In the dark halls of delusions
Urns of ruined times, a handful of cinders
A monument to all our sins
A shrine to lesser things, tears of indulgence

As the autumn leaves are falling
We rush towards oblivion
As the autumn leaves are falling
The flesh is crumbling down

To the first worm
Which gnawed the cold flesh of my corpse
I dedicate, as a token of loving memory
These posthumous memoirs
Les feuilles mortes

As the autumn leaves are falling
We rush towards oblivion
As the autumn leaves are falling
The flesh is crumbling down
As the autumn leaves are falling
Everything disintegrates
As the autumn leaves are falling
All beauty torn apart
All beauty torn apart
All beauty torn apart