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There's a message that's been left in the long grass by a stranger who's passed this way before, |
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Planted seed from which we reap a bitter harvest from his long forgotten war, |
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I left my love in a grave and i marked it with a cross that will stand so straight and true, |
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It's not alone in the shade of the valley, they're what remains of the ones we once knew, |
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Walk with me my child but tread softly on this earth, |
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Keep a close eye where your feet they touch the ground, |
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Watch out for the signs and heed what they say, |
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One false step and all is lost, |
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In the land of the tilted cross. |
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They lie beneath the needles of the forest, in the fields where only shadows dare to play, |
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Washed down from the slopes of the mountains in the spring when the snow melts away, |
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So be sure when you go on your journey, carry sticks, mark the place where they are found, |
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Make a cross and be sure that it's tilted so that others don't step on this ground. |
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Walk with me my child but tread softly on this earth, |
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Keep a close eye where your feet they touch the ground, |
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Watch out for the signs and heed what they say, |
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One false step and all is lost, |
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In the land of the tilted cross. |
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I left my love in a grave and i marked it with a cross that stands so straight and true. |
