Softly your new bed sinks into the ground And softly dirt raindrops come pattering down And softly the tears roll down your son's downy cheeks As he cries for the days and the weeks And the months and the years that you'll miss And blindly we stagger towards the church It pains me to leave you here and love you so much Between the yew trees, your daughter plays hide and seek Not counting the days and the weeks And the months and the years that you'll miss 'Cause you're only in the next room Drifting in a dream where we can't find you You're only in the next room All is well, yeah And all manner of thing shall be, shall be And silently the snow falls on Christmas Day She tries to be a rock, but she's giving way But faithfully you're there, though you cannot speak You watch over the days and the weeks And the years, not missing a thing 'Cause you're only in the next room Drifting in a dream where we can't find you You're only in the next room All is well, yeah And all manner of thing shall be, shall be All is well And all manner of thing shall be, shall be well