Snow is fallingSnow is falling on the groundIn the forestIn the forest there ' s no sound A shallow grave is where we lieThe boys and men who diedAnd snow is falling on the groundAnd we are calling to be found And the seasonsAnd the seasons come and goIn the springtimeBirds will sing and flowers grow At summer ' s end , the autumn breezeWill whisper through the treesAnd leaves are falling on the groundAnd we are calling to be found