The boys and men who died
In the springtime
And snow is falling on the ground
And we are calling to be found
Will whisper through the trees
And we are calling to be found
And leaves are falling on the ground
And in our homes, so many tears
A shallow grave is where we lie
They don't know where we have gone
And we are calling to be found
And the seasons come and go
In the forest there's no sound
And the seasons
And snow is falling on the ground
In the forest
At summer's end, the autumn breeze
Birds will sing and flowers grow