A flowerbed, to lay a body down.
A gentle song to sing the stars are out.
Ignite a candle, to feel some warmth, and guide through the night.
A place somewhere to hide the thoughts, that will never see light.
A place to rest, a place to stay right here.

Away in gold, from the northern banks. In shape of a man, not said his thanks.
Away he came, in the pouring rain. Where he touched her hand, and was lost again.

Believe that it’s an autumn dream once had.
Where the night is young, the grass can be a bed.
To kill a king, just show what these desires will beget.
And take away those bright days he’d never want forget.
That death will come right back, and grin - trace an x upon the skin.

Shake your hand and say, “how do you do?”
And when he calls for me, I hope you will too.

Away in gold, from the northern banks. In shape of a man, not said his thanks.
Away he came, in the pouring rain. Where he touched her hand, and was lost again.

A call to arms, to set all ships to sea.
Not lost yet, but lost all too soon to be.
Coronate uncertainty, canonize a fool.
Don’t think of me, a song unsung – a soul taken too soon.

A song to sing, a song where love is found.
Open your eyes, this man is underground.