the warm wind blows in the long tall gra**
in the long tall gra** that grows on her grave
the warm wind blows in the long tall gra**
in the long tall gra** that grows on her grave
the same wind
the same old wind
that caressed her hair on the first of May
oh my
we saw the parade
and the first shy leaves on the willow tree
reaching out
reaching out for the light
the cold wind blows on the crusted snow
on the crusted snow that coats her grave
the cold wind blows on the crusted snow
on the crusted snow that coats her grave
the years go by
the seasons change
my sorrow's a tide
it returns and fades
same old
same old sorrow
sometimes like a friend
sometimes like a growth