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• Artiste: John & Mary
• Titre: Cemetery Ridge
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Late in the afternoon Most every summer Sunday Most every holiday with nothing Much at all to do As three o'clock came round We knew where she'd be found Sitting in the back seat with her Wrinkled yellow photographs. Into the car we'd pile, off to the edge of town It was a cemetery Sunday drive Turned upside down. But times were different then And she'd remember when And tell us stories That we'd both heard many times before. In unmarked graves they say The children silent lay The church a haven For the families come from far away. Into the car we'd pile, off to the edge of town It was a cemetery Sunday drive Turned upside down. If only to remember one day The line of tiny crosses that were washed away. The seasons change their colors You might wake up accepting things Are really gone. It's not so strange not to abandon hope Of finding markings for her first three daughters And a son. Into the car we'd pile, off to the edge of town It was a cemetery Sunday drive Turned upside down. Think of the children.