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