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I lift up the stone, and I put it in place, it was meant to go there,
All shapes and sizes flash before my eyes.
And here is the wall, the wall that I built , steadily growing,
A structure that will stand the test of time.

I build a wall around my home,
It keeps out enemies and friends.

I stop for a moment, and the rain it is sweeping across this gray land,
And I look out, through the mist up to the hills.
A figure is lurking, he is watching me carefully, he sees every move,
But I won't be put off by what it means.

These hands they are weathered, by the wind and the rain and the stone
and the earth, that lies inside the valleys where I'm from.
And when I am gone, this wall will remain to mark out the land that is owned
by no-one, no-one in the end.

Death comes to the valley, and he carries strange tools that are used for
destruction, and breaking up the spirits of this land.
Bury me near the wall, the wall that I built of dry stone and of rubble, that sits
well in a landscape lost in time.