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