My father walked the world
with a heart that would not harden.
He lived his life and found a wife
and I was born out in the garden.

I grew up in the valley
with our garden and a fountain.
I came and went how'er I pleased
and I grew up on the mountain.

I'd never heard of tractors,
and I'd never been in cars.
I didn't know an outdoor light
could wash away the stars.

Nothing lasts forever,
people came and trees went down.
The valley that was once so free
had now become a town.

When my father's time had come
his heart had still not hardened.
We buried him beneath the weeds
of the land that he once gardened.