In the dead of night
tragedy strikes
you now have to tread lightly
as if walking on spikes

you walk the path lined by trees
it is long and winding
in the moon lit breeze

let them think what they want
it won’t matter now
theres nothing to lose
when you’ve let everyone down

you come to a stop
by the big old oak
the words are sharp
and you let them soak

soak in the water
in the lake that you love
and you come to the realization
that this was your last crop

you reap what you sow
as they used to say
and now you know
the price you will pay

a tragedy it is
and i don’t think you can lie
as you walk into the clearing
where, surely, you will die