The Nightfall

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