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LYRICS: The winter rains fell for seven weeks straight And no one was sure it would ever abate We took shelter indoors and awaited the sun But weeks turned to years and the sun didn't come It didn’t come… How soft Softly we turn Turn into dust The faster that we burn… Now low lies the moon, its light fading fast O’er faraway hills of cinnamon grass As we dim into dusk, dissolve into past We say, “Nothing good in this life is meant to last…” Could it ever last? How soft Softly we burn Burn into dust The faster that we turn… __________________________________ More art by the animator: More art by the colorist:
