Lightning cracks the convent mist curls to the bells
Trees run down to the road protect the convent girls
A Sister somewhere bows her head to pray
Offer protection, a place to hide away
Deep in Sherwood Forest the elves keep to themselves
No one is scarecrow the witch has no spells
A map of tree tops a road that’s made of clay
It’s hard to get to, a place to hide away
I’m thinking of Mondaino I’m thinking of Greece
I’m thinking a walled city to give me my peace
I might take up teaching I have a lot to say
At a roundtable, at a place to hide away
I might take you up on one fine sunny day
I might take you up to a place to hide away
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