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Lovely Dark
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Cypress Grove
Cicadas drone across this harbor town
The walls brought up now are crumbling down
The trade winds call to a snow?white dove
Over a cypress grove still warmed by the sun
And what shall it be?
Ask me, ask me
What shall we be?
You've got to release me
What you are now, son, well I used to be one
What we are now ? you soon will be
I will fade away. I don't want to hurt no one
I don't want no grave
Sometime this body will give way
We've got to make the best of things while we remain
The salt on the rocks will be reclaimed by the tide
The sun bleaches out the whites of my eyes
As I sit and count the blades of grass, I forget myself as the seasons pass.
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