All things must pass,
All metal rust,
Our lives are but a moment
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

But there’s always been one constant,
Since before the dawn of man,
The earth beneath our feet forever,
The ancient, age-old land.

Many a leaf has fallen,
As kings have left their thrones,
Many a river run its course,
As Man has come unto its own.

Near the pathway stands a dying bush,
Its branches reaching towards the sky,
Its boughs are laden with autumnal fruits,
Like drops of blood, like tears we cry.

In the silence of the winter frost,
The sentinel briar waits for snow,
Barren now, and lonely and dead,
How long it’s stood, we cannot know.

The halls inside the confines,
Are still as wind in summer’s heat,
Away from freedom we are led,
No longer earth beneath my feet.