The Vault in the Coaldale The Vault in the Coaldale Freezing breath on a window pane, lying and waiting A man in the dark in a picture frame, so mystic and soulful A voice reaching out in a piercing cry, it stays with you until The feeling is gone, only you and I, it means nothing to me This means nothing to me, what do you know? Music is weaving Haunting notes with staccato strings, the rhythm is calling Alone in the night as the daylight brings a cool empty silence Warmth of your hand in a cold grey sky, it fades to the distance The image is gone, only you and I, it means nothing to me This means nothing to me, what do you know? Music is weaving Music is weaving Music is weaving This means nothing to me This means nothing to me I'll be gone I'll be gone