In the garden of Truth There dwells as bird With feathers of a yellow gold And all thru' the day The sun he play upon his raiment gay
In the garden of Truth There dwells as bird With feathers of a silver pale And all night long The moon she shone upon her raiment warm
And all within the branches of this great oak tree That some call the Tree of Life And the wise men they come And they rest upon the roots And they hear the song.
And all within the branches of this great oak tree That some call the Tree of Life And the wisemen they come To rest upon the roots And they hear the song.