Lyrics:

a dog with a lame leg drags itself around the tombs Mrs. Watson talks with someone who's been dead for years a sickly smell of urine rising from her tights two old ladies on a park bench sitting silent already dead what a wonderfull place to have a cup of tea what a wonderfull place to read a book 'bout love what a wonderfull place to sit around with me under a tree on an afternoon in the cemetery millions of flies spiral around a cross before they land in a fresh grave someone dug last night the little chappel looks so sad even the flowers seem to cry and all those people seem to wait for the moment they will die what a wonderfull place to have a cup of tea what a wonderfull place to read a book 'bout what a wonderfull place to sit around with me under a tree on an afternoon in the cemetery