In the yard, behind the church where

Butterflies and blackbirds search for

A safe place to rest the night away

We will go down to the brook and

Sit upon the overlook then

Forget about the troubles of the day



We will walk among the graves of

Men long dead with presidents' names and

Listen to the water flow softly by

I will kiss you on the lips now

And as the sky grows dark we'll strip down

And let the water wash away all lies



In the yard, behind the church where

Butterflies and blackbirds perch on

Gray stones as the garden's growing dim

We will lay down on the ground and

Put our cheeks against the dirt down

Where it no longer matters

Where you've been