Brown leaves

Brown leaves, brown leaves
Go walking down the street
The dead of the land
The wind will winnow and treat

Like people that stand
Like people that fall
Brown leaves, brown leaves
The wind will winnow them all

Brown leaves, brown leaves
And the fat of the land
The people will meet
But they won't understand
When the wind blows them down
They must try to stand
Brown leaves, brown leaves
Blown across this great land

Hear in the heart wood
The heart ache of the forest
Here every acre is living
On time it does borrow
Brown leaves in the field
By the river, in the hand
Green leaves today,
Will be brown leaves tomorrow