Trees that grew here once Have lost their roots They're gone forever after The grass, once fair and green Grows no more in this black and lonely desert Birds are playing with the dead Until they're buried in the sand Death is roaming ground And reaches for the air Some still struggle on Pale and dry No sun or rain will grace them The wind will carry them away Singing songs of fragile life and past existence Lesser sons of greater fathers Lesser sons of greater fathers Lesser sons of greater fathers Lesser sons of greater fathers