Legend Lyrics - Alphaville

He is sitting on a hill 

A vapid night is crawling through the vale 

The trees are fangs of transiency 

The demons forge hammers and nails 

The spring is in the air 

The sirens in the skies 

The wind is in his hair 

The morning's in his eyes 

The rain turns on 

And he will be 

On the phone 

The world has left alone... 

He will travel all the ways 

That lead to the unknown lands 

Time has distorted his view 

An amen in his due 

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The spring is in the air 

The sirens in the skies 

The wind is in his hair 

The morning's in his eyes 

The rain turns on 

And he will be 

On the phone 

The world has left alone... 

Photos