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