There is a place in the bottom of the soul

It's the bread of destitution

Hearts splashed flat like dough

Where there is no pollution Mute with no words to hold

Hopes, questions or solutions

Bedrock of a river that flowed

No past, present or future We are men of nature

We are made from the earth

At the end of my eighty

I'll return to the dirt Just sand, just rock

Dry land, vast and silent

Only being, only breathing

We're just children of believers Like fire and water be strong with compassion

In the morning we're born everlasting

Like the grass by the sea bending with the wind

Which knocks it down time and again We remain and sing standing

'Til the dawn of day carries us away

As we sway through the phases of each generation

We leave our trace and then leave this station Fears, fronts, fantasy fades

No blame untamed, unspoken

Shiggy walks through the space on dry land

That's cracked and broken We came to taste the rain

We're just widows and orphans

Not afraid to feel the pain

Or to leave behind our notions Bathe and shower, taste the tension

Hear the howl, climb the mountain

Kiss the cold and heal the frozen

Read the dreams in this here dungeon We are men of nature

We are made from the earth

At the end of my eighty

I'll return to the dirt Just sand, just rock

Dry land, vast and silent

Only being, only breathing

We're just children of believers There is fire in these leaves and they fall naturally

I'm not afraid to face these seasons

'Cause times change and there's no one to blame

Even when the day is leaving Will you rise like a lion in the morning sun

Or will you just lay there bleeding?

When the time has come return to the kingdom

Close my eyes and be screaming freedom Freedom, freedom

Freedom, freedom

Freedom, freedom

Freedom We are men of nature

We are made from the earth

At the end of my eighty

I'll return to the dirt Just sand, just rock

Dry land, vast and silent

Only being, only breathing

We're just children of believers We are men of nature

We are made from the earth

At the end of my eighty

I'll return to the dirt Just sand, just rock

Dry land, vast and silent

Only being, only breathing

We're just children of believers

Children of believers