Someday, the seasons will pass away,
In the blink of an eye, in the sound of a sigh,
And when that day comes you and I
Will be the dream of a song on the quiet bay.
The moon will rise, a haloed thing of wings,
The birds their golden hymnals rise;
What a day it will be when you and I
Fling aside our raiment for the cloth of the skies.
Callous hearts we are today;
We live, we breathe, we die;
The coffers shall pass away,
Someday, in a blink or a sigh.