Everything that you are, That you'd like to be Will come in three, my friend Times thine inequity The flutes of the chi Will sound again, my friend Wrap yourself up in gold, The fruits of the old, Are ripe to be told, my friend For, it's not what you are, How you've come to be All this will will end and begin again Everything that you are, That you'd like to be Will come in three, my friend Times thine inequity, The flutes of the chi Will sound again, my friend