Descendant

	The days when I was young
	The days when I will die
	Autumn leaves lie on the ground
	To wither so much like me
	Unto thee
	Shall all flesh come
	Grant me eternal rest
	Seven, seven they are
	No gate will shut them out
	Like snakes through grass they glide
	Like wind, like wind they storm
	Fall has swept the fields
	The woods will come alive
	Heaven and earth converge
	And the stars will disappear