Standing before a grayish stone circle
From which the dead enter the gray
With this golden dawn, as the sun is rising
We can see sacred ground, a divine doorway
The gathering of the tribe is loudly chanting
They sing to send off a new sacred shadow
While the living will miss their comrade
All of his great love, humor, and stories
The gray is a dimension the dead explore
Only glimpses can be seen from a portal
But a limited glimpse that's still glory
