Esmé Patterson

Elysium

Esmé Patterson


Past the Sun's great western gate, past the land of dreams
Where the heroes and the noble hearts
Rest their feet beneath the poplar trees

Go west my friend, past the river encircling
Out to the fields the color of lightning, color of gold

Where those who kept their oaths, who kept their hearts clean
They crown their hands in flowers
From the shining trees that grow by the sea

Go west my friend, past the river encircling
Out to the fields the color of lightning, color of gold

You always bathed in your own Sun
You slept 'neath your own stars
When you laid down in the shade, the bird
Were singing, and this is their song

Go west my friend, past the river encircling
Out to the fields the color of lightning, color of gold

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