In The Yard, Behind The Church

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