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