How different the woods are at dead of night
Wayfarers on the paths of darkness walk alone
Farewell chants, softly rustling wings, grey feathers
Surround the road that takes them far away
To the land of ghosts

Between the trees spirits and shades, a floating haze
Sacred fires burn from the depths of time
Going up in smoke of redwood and pine, drifting high
Guide the midwinter ghosts to the stars
Of the frozen sky

Spellbound we stand by the fire
The words of the rite die away
Weathered faces, empty eyes
Merged into the forest's grey
With the new dawn ashes remain
Visions will fade as embers soar
New spring will come, but parting ones
Won't come back anymore