In the language of fallen leaves, we are all alike.
The language of fallen leaves is not difficult to speak.
Let's do it together, shall we? Let's try!
Unchanged in the air, but when we fall, we are weak.

Shall we hold fast or accept the granite honors.
Loads from above. Like those to whom life is no more.
It's rainy season today. I'd rather have leaves than dollars.
Tomorrow the east wind will give us warmth.

And will carry us down past all, against the sky.
In this language it is impossible to seem alive.
But, among the ashes, we have yet to win!
In the language of fallen leaves just to live and spin.