240 
On Nature lyrics with English Translations
Ahh..
Ahh..
There is a place in the bottom of the soul, It's no bread of restitution. Hearts splash fly like dough, Where there is no pollution.
You would know words to hold, Folks question your solutions. Bedrock of a river that flowed, No times, present or future.
We are men of nature, We are made from the earth. At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt. Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent, Only bein', only breathin', We're just children of believers.
Type, fire and water be strong with compassion, In the morning we're born everlasting. Like the grass by the sea, And in with the wind which knocks ya down time and again. We remain and sing, Stand until the dawn of day carries us away. As we sway through the phases of each generation, We leave our trace and then leave this station.
Fierce fronts, fantasy phased, No blame, untamed or spoken. Shiggy walks through this space, On dry land that's cracked and broken.
We came to taste the rain, We're just, widows and orphans. Not afraid to feel the pain, Or to leave behind our notions.
Bathe in showers, taste the tension, Hear the howl, climb the mountain. Kiss the cold and heal the frozen, Read the dreams in this here dungeon.
We are men of nature, We are made from the earth. At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt. Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent, Only bein', only breathin', We're just children of believers.
There is fire in these leaves and therefore naturally, I'm not afraid to face these seasons. Even when the day is leavin'. Will you rise like a lion in the morning sun, Or will ya, just lay there bleedin'. When the time has come, return to the kingdom, Close my eyes and be screamin' "freedom".
Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!
We are men of nature, We are made from the earth. At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt. Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent, Only bein', only breathin', We're just children of believers.
We are men of nature, We are made from the earth. At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt. Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent, Only bein', only breathin', We're just children of believers.
Children of believers.
There is a place in the bottom of the soul, It's no bread of restitution. Hearts splash fly like dough, Where there is no pollution.
You would know words to hold, Folks question your solutions. Bedrock of a river that flowed, No times, present or future.
We are men of nature, We are made from the earth. At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt. Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent, Only bein', only breathin', We're just children of believers.
Type, fire and water be strong with compassion, In the morning we're born everlasting. Like the grass by the sea, And in with the wind which knocks ya down time and again. We remain and sing, Stand until the dawn of day carries us away. As we sway through the phases of each generation, We leave our trace and then leave this station.
Fierce fronts, fantasy phased, No blame, untamed or spoken. Shiggy walks through this space, On dry land that's cracked and broken.
We came to taste the rain, We're just, widows and orphans. Not afraid to feel the pain, Or to leave behind our notions.
Bathe in showers, taste the tension, Hear the howl, climb the mountain. Kiss the cold and heal the frozen, Read the dreams in this here dungeon.
We are men of nature, We are made from the earth. At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt. Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent, Only bein', only breathin', We're just children of believers.
There is fire in these leaves and therefore naturally, I'm not afraid to face these seasons. Even when the day is leavin'. Will you rise like a lion in the morning sun, Or will ya, just lay there bleedin'. When the time has come, return to the kingdom, Close my eyes and be screamin' "freedom".
Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!
We are men of nature, We are made from the earth. At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt. Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent, Only bein', only breathin', We're just children of believers.
We are men of nature, We are made from the earth. At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt. Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent, Only bein', only breathin', We're just children of believers.
Children of believers.
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"On Nature" Song Info
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