Sun beats on the graveyard.
Gentle breezes blow.
We pass by aging grave stones
as we look for ones we know.
Bird calls twitter through the air
to bright the soft spring day.
These people came before us.
Long ago and far away.
Sun beats on the graveyard.
Gentle breezes blow.
We pass by aging grave stones
as we look for ones we know.
Bird calls twitter through the air
to bright the soft spring day.
These people came before us.
Long ago and far away.