Lead me out of this desolate land

And my feet are sure to follow.

Sing me sweetly by the riverside

And the notes I will gladly hum.

Lay me beneath this willow tree

Where I vow to take my rest.

I have fought in vain

And staked a claim to a gift

I was never offered.

My eyes are tired,

And my hands have cramped

From the landscape I strained to paint.

I will wash my brush

And clean my heart

Of all their wanton strokes.

I wish to only watch it now

The way the stars peacefully align.

They speak to me in tongues of old

Their words I long to hold.