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Long ago I beard a tale |
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I never wilt forget |
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The time was in the telling |
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On the bank the scene was set |
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The sky was rolling blindly on |
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The daylight had not gone |
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She washed her hair among the stones |
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And saw what was to come |
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All this will pass |
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There will be blood among the corn |
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And heroes in the hills |
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But there is more to come my boy |
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Before you've had your fill |
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Men will come and rope the sail |
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As though it were their own |
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And they will bathe their feet in oil |
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As I have bathed my own |
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All this will pass |
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All things must come |
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Just as I tell you here |
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Stones will stand together |
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As if searching for the stars |
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And all come crashing down again |
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Before they reach too far |
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She turned to face the setting sun |
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I turned to walk away |
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But then she called my name again |
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And beckoned me to stay |
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All this will pass |
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All things must come |
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Just as I tell you here |
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She told me of the famous sons |
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Who write their names in peace |
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Yet be cut down before the time |
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Has come for our release |
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Just as I tell you here |
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Even nowI wait for the coming day |
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Even nowShe waits in the dawn |
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For the tales she tells |
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For the gifts that she will sell |
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For the sight she knows |
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For a vision that still grows |
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With the dream in her eyes no one's seen |
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I listened for so long that day |
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That I can hardly tell |
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If what she said was heaven sent |
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Or brought to bear in hell |
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That men of hope would stand alone |
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And still be cast a lie |
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Just as Romans cast them |
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On the day they were to die |
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All this will pass |
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There is more of what she told |
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Much better left alone |
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For who are we to question her |
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Who stands among the stones |
