Beaconsfield to Headington went by The ring-road to the south My heart too big to fit inside my mouth And up there on the hill The woods and houses still I took the plastic urn How heavily we burn I stood there by the bench Beneath an arch of trees The flicker of his voice inside the breeze And unscrewing the lid The weirdest thing I did And tumbling through my hands The ash fell on the land And I made a trail through the trees Dust and pieces at my feet And down in Matthew Arnold's Field With sun by cloud concealed A horse its head held high against the sky The bridleway led back up to the gate A car parked by a tree Inside a couple with sandwiches and tea They were gazing at the field Its silence all revealed As it was once to him back then And was to me that day again And I see that trail through the trees Dust and pieces at my feet And down in Matthew Arnold's Field With sun by cloud concealed A horse its head held high against the sky On the day I said goodbye As I tried to say goodbye