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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