In a quiet country graveyard
Just six miles west of town
Where I built a fence with roses
And ivy all around

And as the day starts to decline
And the winds begin to rise
The lofty pines begin to nod
It is then I see your eyes

As the quail pipes in the bushes
And the sun sets in the west
I kiss a single rose, My Love,
With you, it finds its rest

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