Into a hole in the cold, cold ground on a grey, grey day
Into a hole, down, down-soft place for us to lay
I buried us in a secret place none will go
Bluebells in the field, the only wreath we’ll ever know.
No churchyard will ever hold our sad, sad sin
No coin of copper, silver, gold to buy our way in
No stone to mark the bitter place where we lie
No stone but my heart … and no one’s tears but mine.
Can you hear … judgment in the trees
How they say … I’ll never rest in peace
And they will say … lies I can never untell
See, the only hymns sang for him were from silent little bells
Silent little bells …
I loved a man in the worst of ways, loved me once
Loved me but he left, left me with his son
But the son he did not rise when it was his time
And I begged my love bury our son, but he said “was none of mine.”
The world it judged me hard for what it did not see
The woman is a whore, while the man he goes free
So tell me now for all my pain, can it be a sin
For a woman done wrong to do the man done it – do that man right in?
Can you hear … judgment in the trees
How they say … I will never rest in peace
And they will say … lies I can never untell
See, the only hymns sang for him were from silent little bells
Silent little bells …
I took my love to an old, old place on the edge of town
Told him he could take me, take and lay me down
I let him kiss me deep upon the edge of the well
I took my lover in my arms and took us both to Hell.
Into a hole in the cold, cold ground on a grey, grey day
Into a hole, down, down-soft place for us to lay
I buried us in a secret place none will sing
Bluebells in the field, bluebells in the field, bluebells in the field
And not a one to ring.
– © Heather Aubrey Lloyd