These are the ways of my people
And this is the land that I know
My home will be always these hillsides
Where waters of ages still flow

But time for my people is passing
Our land is no longer our own
Our children forsake now the stories
Of a past that they never have known

For life all around us is changing
And stories no longer apply
The ways of our fathers are fading
And our children shall bid them goodbye

But these hills will be always my homeland,
Though the waters of history pass,
And stories of ages live after
In the birds and the wind in the grass