Next to the church that’s on a hill,
A graveyard lies-it’s very still.
Many headstones are on the grass,
I look and sigh and say alas.
My friends are near-they’re buried there,
In the graveyard unaware,
Of everything that’s taking place,
At least they’re not in the rat race.
Enjoy the peace, enjoy the view,
I’ll be along soon to see you.
I hope you’ll save a place for me,
Under the beautiful old oak tree.