[Verse 1] In the hills of old Honomū, Where the wind sighs low and true, Lived a chief with a voice like rain, And eyes that burned with no refrain. He danced with Lehua in the night, Held Maile close in morning light— But a faithful heart he did betray, And shame would wash him all away... [Chorus] Now he falls, he falls forever, In silver tears beneath the sky. He chose the leap, he chose the river, Where his sorrow could not lie. And the stone still holds his name, And his love still calls in vain— Oh ʻAkaka, oh ʻAkaka, In the mist we feel your pain. [Verse 2] His wife returned, her voice like lei, Calling him from far away. She followed the scent of Maile’s grass, Through gulch and grove and tangled pass. He ran from love, he ran from truth, The echoes chasing back his youth. Alone he stood upon the bluff, His loyal dog, the last to trust... [Chorus] Now he falls, he falls forever, In silver tears beneath the sky. He chose the leap, he chose the river, Where his sorrow could not lie. And the stone still holds his name, And his love still calls in vain— Oh ʻAkaka, oh ʻAkaka, In the mist we feel your pain. [Bridge] On moonless nights, the valley hushes, And the wind carries only one refrain: A woman’s cry through leafy brushes, Calling him back home again. [Verse 3] She reached too late, her heart undone, Her tears fell heavy one by one. And near the cliff, she chose to stay— Transformed by grief, she turned to clay. The dog, the wife, the maidens two, Each became the falling blue. Now all who loved him weep as stone, While the chief weeps all alone. [Final Chorus] Yes, he falls, he falls forever, In silver sorrow from the skies. Maile weeps, and Lehua shivers, Their voices in the lullaby. And the stone still speaks his name, As the waters chant her pain— Oh ʻAkaka, oh ʻAkaka, You are love, and you are rain...
