Softly your new bed sinks into the ground
And softly dirt raindrops come pattering down
And softly the tears roll down your son's downy cheeks
As he cries for the days and the weeks
And the months and the years that you'll miss
And blindly we stagger towards the church
It pains me to leave you here and love you so much
Between the yew trees, your daughter plays hide and seek
Not counting the days and the weeks
And the months and the years that you'll miss
'Cause you're only in the next room
Drifting in a dream where we can't find you
You're only in the next room
All is well, yeah
And all manner of thing shall be, shall be
And silently the snow falls on Christmas Day
She tries to be a rock, but she's giving way
But faithfully you're there, though you cannot speak
You watch over the days and the weeks
And the years, not missing a thing
'Cause you're only in the next room
Drifting in a dream where we can't find you
You're only in the next room
All is well, yeah
And all manner of thing shall be, shall be
All is well
And all manner of thing shall be, shall be well