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