Derived from Ezekiel Ch. 13

The sun never rises,
In the valley.
They never open their eyes,
In the valley.

Remnants of the fallen litter the ground,
In the valley.
The howling of the wind is the only sound,
In the valley.

Cold, barren, and dry,
In the valley.
To arrive is to have died,
In the valley.

Out of the clouds thunders a voice,
In the valley.
The once dry bones rise up and rejoice,
In the valley.

In the valley of Dry Bones.