I’m searching for a place

A place of dread and wonder

I’m searching for a place

Of which very few know

 

I’m searching for a place

A place I’m not too sure of

I’m searching for a place

To which very few go

 

I’m searching for a place

A place quite far from home

I’m searching for the place

Where the dead things grow

 

I wish to go where the dead things grow

There your kind of love to nourish

Its dead and so

Thought you should know

Only there might your love flourish

 

I wish to go where the dead things grow

Your heart perhaps may mend there

Its broke and so

Thought you should know

This place I hope repairs it

 

Where the dead things grow

Its your soul, you know

Your touch and love I once wished for

 

Where the dead things grow

Just thought you should know

Only in darkness do you tarry

 

I wish to go if you must know

This place to plant your pine box

The place only you would know

A place . . . where the dead things grow

Advertisements