[01:09.10]Procession moves on, the shouting is over,[01:17.98]Praise to the glory of loved ones now gone.[01:26.27]Talking aloud as they sit round their tables,[01:35.27]Scattering flowers washed down by the rain.[01:44.06]Stood by the gate at the foot of the garden,[01:52.95]Watching them pass like clouds in the sky,[02:01.38]Try to cry out in the heat of the moment,[02:10.07]Possessed by a fury that burns from inside.[03:29.48]Cry like a child, though these years make me older,[03:38.00]With children my time is so wastefully spent,[03:46.92]A burden to keep, though their inner communion,[03:55.34]Accept like a curse an unlucky deal.[04:04.24]Played by the gate at the foot of the garden,[04:12.72]My view stretches out from the fence to the wall,[04:21.47]No words could explain, no actions determine,[04:29.95]Just watching the trees and the leaves as they fall.