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The smell of ripe soil, of wood

And gentle decay

The smell of fresh rain

Of things alive within the earth

So familiar when all else is gone

So familiar when all else is gone

Far away

The sun is dancing

The falling night calls for the departed

I walk towards the shade of the primeval trees to be forgotten

As I have been bereft of memory

Memory

The smell of ripe soil

Of things alive within the earth

So familiar

Weep not for me, this I have chosen

To walk the path of those forgotten

The trail of tears and release

Far away

The sun is dancing

The falling night calls for the departing

I heed the call, I fall upon the dusk

And let my tears fall

Unto oblivion

I walk towards the shade of the primeval trees to be forgotten

As I have been bereft of memory

As I have been bereft of memory

As I have been bereft of