Say we're here to reclaim our past
Though we knew it couldn't last
Our pathetic attempt to fashion this place
To our own, alien ways
Say we're here to watch our homes
Be buried by a hail of stones
Assume it all
And let's drink to our fall

Oh, friends, let us drink to this memory so fine
For not all is lost when there is still bread and wine

And then we slip back
I am I, you are you
And the life we knew, we loved so much
Is here, unblemished, untouched
And waiting for that hail of stones
We'll meet our fate at home
As men turn to mice
With the closing of the vice

Oh, friends, let us drink to this memory so fine
For not all is lost when there is still bread and wine

Oh, how we'll miss your green and gold
The tinkling of your streams
The majesty of your storms
The sounds of your evening doves
Your harvest sun warm on our skin
The scent of your hot cotton
Your leopards in the sun