You walk over the tended grass
And tread lightly around the stones
The wind is brisk, the sun is gone
And the cold sinks to your bones
Your hair blows in the breeze
And your hands won`t stand still
You try to keep your tears from falling
But you know you never will
You reach out to touch the headstone
Tracing the letters with your hand
The old stone falls away
Now nothing more than sand
You go every evening
When no one else is there
You come to remember
The girl with the golden hair