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 еyes, but a smile on their facе
While a name on the headstone they traces, 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
Now grass springing up through the north freshly stirred
And I smile and recall those old words, whispering...