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Click hereIn a little country churchyard
Old tombstones all askew,
Weathered guardian angels
Watch all that's left of you.
Your world was one of ancient times
Now withered neath the chalk,
This place of Yew and whispers
Where only ghosts now walk.
A little country churchyard,
Forgotten - nettle deep,
All Hallows Eve awaken
Your soul from endless sleep.