Little Grave

When I was a little one
I'd follow you into the sun
I held your hand
You held me then
I went outside
You never saw me again

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Touch not ye my little grave
For mama is now far away
They lay me there
And there I lay
You can't fight guns with guns, we'll all perish that way

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And the blue dreams keep on calling me
And the blue dreams keep on calling me
And the blue dreams keep on calling me
And the blue dreams keep on calling me
And the blue dreams keep on calling me
And the blue dreams keep on calling me
And the blue dreams keep on calling me

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