We all went out underneath the alder treenAnd in alder shade we spoke so carefullynBut way back amongst the knotted pinesnIt was dim, and things grew honest thennnUnder the pinesnnNow all of the tendons of the world are loosednAnd in the dark light of pine we speak the truthnYes way back, oh things grew honest thennPaths diverge into the boring mistnnUnder the pines