Ancient trees are
standing guard Around
the old graveyard The
leaves are trembling in
the wind Listen and
you will hear their song
They sing for the dead
who lies buried Deep
in the ground With grey
tombstones above

The moon so high in the
sky
Pale white, its myst
erious light The moon is
shining down on the
graveyard Sighing mournfully
for all mortal men
Who in spite
of all of their struggle and plight
Ends up under
a tombstone in the graveyard


On twisted
branches the crows sit
Black feathers Black, glitt
ering eyes
As the
night goes by
They fly
to and fro the trees
surrounding The graveyard
They crow For the
folly of men
Hoping for immortality
Even though they
know They will end up
In a tomb in the
graveyard