See the pebbled Stones, how they arrange themselves
at the bed of the water clear, they look so peaceful
undisturbed by the waters flowing over, about them
yet moving positions, gradually, gently and silently
The fishes; calmly strolling along the water bed freely
not caring if it does not exist or never was there at all
for it believes that it could live with or without Stones
but the Stones, stays waiting patently, not hoping better
Through the storm, it has waited over the silent years
looking through its eye; trying not to give itself away
yet the wonderful colour of these fishes are glowing
with or without it's help, still they are giving away
Mother he cry's "why cant i move like these fishes?"
that i might wonder around the whole world searching
for all year long, i wait... wait till they come to say hi
would i have anything to loose if i give myself away?
Quietly, the mother opens her eyes to her oblivious son
we are nothing but Stones and we are with or without them
Life for them is a stage where they come, play and move on
We are here always and forever, never fading, never dying
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