I live where the gra** is low, where
Shepherd‘s purse and daisies grow. I wash my hands every daybut soil and dust won‘t go away
One day we will all be humus
Dandelions will grow upon us
What a pretty thing to be food for gra** and rosemary. yarrow and ranunculus will sprout and bloom and feed on us
Just remember, all is not lost
‚cause our bodies will be compost
I lie down beneath a tree until the gra** grows over me. as the setting sun now dies I hear the ravens‘ lullabies:
Just remember, all is not lost
Cause our bodies will be compost
Just remember, all is not lost
Our bodies will turn to compost