I dance between the graves of the dead, with flowers in my hair and tears in my soul, with a mind for those the world has long since forgotten, the sky is dark, yet the birds sing.

I dance between the graves of the dead, my bare feet light in tread, my eyes achingly clear, the world is sharply in focus and here at my fingertips

I dance between the graves of the dead, guided only by a longing in my heart, to remember those that lived long ago, to remember those that lived just yesterday but died too soon, yes I'm drawn by that mysterious song,

I dance between the graves of the dead, thoughts on my mind of one not dead, but one not meant to be called my own,

I tiptoe quiet now, between the graves of the dead, my heart poured out to those lost in that permanent sleep, I drop to the foot of the graves of the world, and I weep.