I'm a branch upon a river, my hands have no say.
Times that are delivered can be cruel, will leave me laying like a wind, flicker and flame.
Every week does fall upon its day.
Like a bird goes into old age, every leaf does fall upon its day.
I'm mounted by the water, I've stood a million years.
Time has shown me winter, it's hands even press on me.
To those I've known, I only say that every leaf will fall upon its day.
. . .
Things I've loved I always ate,
But every leaf will fall upon its day.
Yes, every leaf does fall upon its day.
