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!