The Flowers - Nits

She is walking through the snowflakes

On the churchyard

With a small bunch of flowers in her hand

She’s putting it on a gravestone

Of a young soldier

Who died on the desert sand

And it hurts

And it hurts

The song in her head

Where the flowers are gone

And the young men are dead

And the girls are alone

With the hours

Life is floating away in a small red river

On the desert sand

A river of pictures

A movie of 20 years is flowing

Through his head

The flowers

Where are the flowers

She was picking alone in a meadow

A summer a long time ago

Life was endless

A desert

An ocean

The host of a talk show is laughing

And laughing

And people talk about the interior of their houses

And how they

How they want to change it

And it hurts

And it hurts

The song in her head

Where the flowers are gone

And the young men are dead

And the girls are alone

With the hours

The Apache wandered lonely as a cloud

O’r vales and hills

When all at once he saw a crowd

A host of red poppies in a field

And the flowers

Where are the flowers

She was picking alone in a meadow

A summer a long time ago

Life was endless

A desert

An ocean

The flowers

Where are the flowers

The hours

The years

Where are the flowers

Sometimes you dream

The desert is an ocean

You dive deeper and deeper

You cannot find him