The sunlight moves the deep shadows across the grove The sun doth fall behind the trees and turns the leaves And so they touch like praying hands Listen and you can understand that wood could spread across the land were it not for the hand of man A choice was made before your birth to curse the Earth and you can follow all your days, or turn away and walk into the Holy Wood, where it is wholly understood, the True Cross and the Holy Rood are growing true and right and good. Mercy, I cry city, upon my mind! All dead and grey, fall away, and come the day when trees spring from your broken ground, and push the cold steel towers down, and cracking concrete is the sound as the forest reclaims the town!