The Light of the Moon

When I was young as each day would wind down

I would walk through the streets of this dusty old town

Past the store and saloon, and the cemetery

And each night the same lovebirds I'd see

They'd smile and they'd wave as they'd amble on by

They would laugh, tradin' pulls from a flask of cheap rye

And in all the years since I still ain't seen a love

Near as pure as those old turtledove's

One night in the graveyard, only one could I see

On their knees underneath an old sycamore tree

They had tears in their eyes, but a smile on their face

While a name on the headstone they traced, whispering...

"The light of the moon is the sun

Yet only in darkness it shines

Death and life are harmonies sung

The two, truly one, as lovers entwined"

I drew near them with care, but my words tumbled down

I said "How can you live when your love's in the ground?"

And they reached up to me and I helped them to stand

And they took my face in their old weathered hands, whispering...

Years passed and that plot grew another gravestone

And now, breathing the night air, I kneel here alone

New grass springing up through the earth freshly stirred

And I smile and recall those old words, whispering...