The wildflowers feed the wasps and honey bees

I went to Epping Forest for a walk
I got lost, so good you had me stalked
You saved me from starvation,even death
I know you like to draw me on a graph

The East End felons never go on strike
Buried in a forest ,not so bright
No headstone with your name on, no red light
No priest, no music, nor a sacred rite

Murderers for Funerals will not pay
That would give their secrets, names away
Their minds don’t grasp they usurp God’s own rights
He knows all our names and when we’ll die

Beware of Epping Forest and its trees
The wildflowers feed the wasps and honey bees