We’ve been sown, grown here on the soil With roots that burrow deep We’ve been long left, but edges of the coil now Closer ever creep Elders, tellers, keepers of the bygone Treasures of the dirt Brush and string we and scribble and we sing And dig for the annals of the earth And we try try try To keep a little beauty in the world All that died died died We keep it in our hands In their dark clouds, blackening the sun They came down to the shores Motors hard, loud Beaten, overcome No peace here anymore Bridges rigid, wicked are the pillars Push us till we fall Prophet’s lies burn craving in their eyes still Casting a shadow over all And we try try try To keep a little beauty in the world All that died died died We keep it in our hands Oh we are the fading voice (We are the elders, tellers) Oh we keep it in our hands Oh We tell it to the page Oh We never let it fade And we try try try To keep a little beauty in the world All that died died died We keep it in our hands Oh we are the fading voice (We are the elders, tellers) Oh keep it in our hands