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 awayWe will go down to the brook and

Sit upon the overlook then

Forget about the troubles of the dayWe will walk among the graves of

Men long dead with presidents' names and

Listen to the water flow softly byI will kiss you on the lips now

And as the sky grows dark we'll strip down

And let the water wash away all liesIn the yard, behind the church where

Butterflies and blackbirds perch on

Gray stones as the garden's growing dimWe will lay down on the ground and

Put our cheeks against the dirt down

Where it no longer matters where you've been