Come wayward Souls,
Who wander through the darkness,
There is a light for the lost and the meek.
Sorrow and fear
Are easily forgotten,
When you submit to the soil of the earth.
Grow, tiny seed,
you are gone to the tree.
Rise, till your leaves fill the sky,
until your sighs fill the air in the night.
Lift your mighty limbs,
and give praise
to the fire.
O potatus et molassus
Si velis eris quaereo nobis
Lenes et caldi baluti catuli
Plene cum petri dulcibus
O potatus et molassus
Velis eris quaereo nobis
Lenes et caldi baluti catuli
Potatus et molassus
Grow, tiny seed,
you are gone to the tree...