Ye seek gold? come sit by me, tell me a story, for my company. I'll make rich all who can speak of things I know, or things they seek. 'tis silent here... I lost my way, forgot my tales. Keep your gold, it can't undo, all I lost, all I would do, to pay the cost of simple truth. There are things, gold cannot buy. The meadow's nice, I would sleep for a while. I'll tell tales another day, when wounds don't bleed and the scream I hear is far away, not close and dear. But not over here... i seek but shade. I lost a thing, I can't replace. The trees might heal the scream I hear; the moss, the rain will suit me well.