Sad Ballad of Paradise

500 miles to DC, from this death burned town, this empty plain.
The wind with the creep of winter, the bitter snows and darkness.
Me and my daughter running through the day, hiding in the night.
Me and my daughter trying to find someplace safe, to rest, to live again.
 The rich cities, the places of power, the lords of the air hide apart.
All others left behind, not even slaves or cannon fodder, just tossed aside.
The dead walk, the world broke, and me and her are even on the run.
Winter is on it’s way, and there’s nowhere to find solace from the cold.
 Hiding in a tree house as night falls and we hear those damned howls.
I hold her close, and rock her and sing to her, some sad ballad of paradise.
I always promised her a tree house, and here we are, but it’s all changed.
Finally, we both drift to sleep, to someplace upon in the stars, beyond death.
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