I know of a place where tall grasses grow;
They tenderly tickle my legs just below my knees.
The sun shines ever gloriously in this place and gentle breezes blow;
They play beautiful music through the trees.

Night never falls upon this place and it never grows cold
And there is never anyone to call me away.
I can stay for hours in this place; it never grows old.
In fact, I think I'll go there today.

And no one ever sees this place, but whom I invite-
It's the best kept secret of which I know.
In this way, this place remains pure and bright
And lovely, providing rest each time I go.

"How might one get to this place?" you inquire; but, alas,
I cannot tell, for it has no address and no streets lead there.
Indeed, I have created this place to inspire and to let hours pass.
It calms me; it heals me; surely, I'm freed there.

I'd very much like to take you to this place; I'd lead you by the hand
And set you down where the wind makes the grass caress your skin.
And we could talk and embrace and live and breathe and
Maybe find the strength to wake up again.