How nice it is to pick the wild strawberries
At the grave of Liza Jean
The day was dark, scarcely a day at all
And I sat in the slanted rain
Voices filled the air
Thought not a single soul was there on mount despair
The sky collapsed with the weight of scarlet clouds
And so my feet began to run
Through wastes of fog to a long forgotten day
When Liza Jean and I were young
Lightning fills the air
As we climb the winding stair up mount despair
When we reached the top
She dangled her legs over the edge
And there was nothing we couldn't see
The rainbows arch, armies on the march
All the realms of eternity
The she leapt in the air
And I watched her disappear
But I didn't seem to care
Like a tree shaken bare on mount despair
How nice it is to pick the wild strawberries
At the grave of Liza Jean
