Where are the men who marched down this road
With kind eyes and saddened by crime and shame
Little brothers in dark forests with wolf and snow
Where are the men who bravely marched to die
They just smiled at the snowdrift, cold and arrow
Little brothers in dark forests, mile after mile
From the praise of people and homes where evil lived
Who hears their silver bells at cloudy night?
Where are the brothers and the musicians gone
In the valley I was told they still live