The Air Grows Cool And Darkles, The

High In The Air Rises The Forest Of Oaks, High Over The Oaks Soar The Eagle, High Over The Eagle Sweep The Clouds, High Over The Clouds Gleam The Stars... High Over The Stars Sweep The Angels.

Thinking Of Germany In The Night Robs Me Of My Sleep.

Where Books Are Burned In The End People Will Be Burned Too.

What Lies Lurk In Kisses.

In Blissful Dream, In Silent Night, There Came To Me, With Magic Might, With Magic Might, My Own Sweet Love, Into My Little Room Above.