I’ll meet you in the garden or meet you in the park, 
 By the [bad word] before it gets too dark. 
 We’ll walk between the hedges and the marble [bad word] 
 And talk about the gods, the gentle and the grim. 

 There are towers all around now, their shadows growing tall, 
 We’ll meet there in the evening by the tiny waterfall. 
 We’ll sit on a bench and hold each other tight 
 If a ghost procession passes in the night. 

 Until not so long ago, there used to be gallows here, 
 Thieves and witches hanging, hanging throughout the year, 
 If you hear them whisper, if you hear them moan, 
 Don’t be scared, you’re not alone, 
 And before you go insane, 
 The sun will rise again, 
 Sol Invictus.