In the Grove of My Song
In the Grove of My Song
The chords make the leaves
And the key makes the needles
That fall down from the trees
And it feels so good
To see a clearing in the wood
Where there was only darkness
And a muffled kind of love
Muffled kind of love
Oh no-body answers - those
Echoes in the wood
Echoes in the wood
In the fields of my heart
My breathing yields the corn
And the man with the sickle
Makes me wish I'd not been born
And it feels so right
To see the stars burn out the night
And know that I've been watching
The same sky for all my life
For all my life
