Song: A grave story

They dig out piles of sand

The iron scraping chasing the wind

The trees weep from left to right

‘cause I kiss their crests one by one


I whisper him home, go home my love

The rain will bring me back


He’s digging pits for sprouts

The sun colours his tears bright red

First falling leaves, he sees me dancing

If I still could I would dance the waltz for you


I whisper him home, go home my love

The rain will bring me back

Loddon lilies proudly pointing

I hush their callings with a nod

Time has grown this vast young oak

He’s touching the bark, he’s caressing me


I whisper him home, go home my love

The rain has brought me here

I whisper him home, go home my love, go home my love

 

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About chb

Writer, scientist, puzzled by mankind.
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