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Baltic

I spread my cloak
And silver falls on it for me
 
All the years that were
You had to swear
To be the frontline in the West
 
The blacksmith hammers in the heavens
Glowing coals fall into the sea
 
Now the tide has turned
But once again
You are the frontline in the East
 
I see it all through this amber in my hand
 
Now you've turned around
But hear the sound
Of wind that blows straight from the West
 
I spread my cloak
And silver falls on it for me
 
I close my eyes with this amber in my hand
 
Silver