In the field of forgotten memories Are winds that still echoes in silence On them are names that never dies They blow and rest in the heart of men
When bones and flesh decay A part that was never meant to live forever Deed still lives and carry with it Stories that will forever live on
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When the eyes are shut from seeing the light And the hands and mouth tied from working The wind Remember the name They carry it across nations and kindred speaking tidings of good reports
Good name is better than gold Because they're written with irons on stones They are never erased from generations to generations The wind Remember the name