Rivers run to the sea
Yet the sea isn't full, nor could ever be
To the place where they run
There they run again like life under the sun
Going south, turning north
And so on the wind goes blowing forth
Turn about as it yearns
To continually follow until it returns
Creation was subject to vanity
In hope of freedom from its slavery
What has been done is what will be done
What has been is what will be
Under the sun, there's nothing new to see
Just vanity of vanities
Sun will rise, and it sets
Bringing forth new beginnings without old regrets
To its place will it rise
So it hurries through darkness yet never dies
Creation was subject to vanity
In hope of freedom from its slavery
What has been done is what will be done
What has been is what will be
Under the sun, there's nothing new to see
Just vanity of vanities
What has been done is what will be done
What has been is what will be
Under the sun, there's nothing new to see
Just vanity of vanities