We play on themes of an old faith. You know
The story as one who fought it believes
In the war, and then doesn't believe it
Was worth the price she paid for believing.
A quick step through the graveyard gets you past
The carvings, cut flowers wilting on the
Rocks and a line of ancestors beneath
The surface of a small hill here or there.
New Harmony.  Golgotha.  Palestine.
In the light of day the granite glistens,
The weathered old stones lean toward the trees,
Patient with their stories. Come back tonight.