Goodbye my friend of many years,
Of so many good times passed.
I thank you for the good days
But now it's parting time at last.
You never told me she was dead
I suppose you had your reasons;
Yet every year I came back here,
At the beginning of each season
And helped you pick your grapes.
And every single night
When we left these hills
I hoped for just a sight
Of her down in the village.
I would roam here for hours
Around the places we both knew.
I suppose I never asked of her;
Never asked you, that's true.
I suppose I thought you would tell me
Because of our friendships in the past,
And then I walked through the graveyard.
That's when I found her again at last.
So many years ago she died.
She didn't have much time.
Still growing in her beauty.
Never ever reached her prime.
I saw the flowers on her stone,
Read the card you'd put there,
After all these years realised
Just how much you still care.
I'll be gone from the valley
By the time you read this letter;
I think to quietly leave
Will be so much better.
I'll not be coming back here
Any more grape picking seasons;
You never told me she was dead,
And now I know your reasons.