Lake Bras D'or

There is a path by Lake Bras d'Or
 I never go there anymore
 It's not the same, since you and I
 The path is narrow, over-grown
 The few that thread there, thread alone
 A patch of land, I call my own
 I planted seeds, some have grown
 But weeds have choked the few remains
 My crop has withered in the sun
 Doomed before it had begun
 I thought I read the writing on the wall
 Turned out that it was just a bit of scrawl
 I walked along, tasting my defeat -
 There was a time when what was writ
 Seemed to me clear, and full of wit
 There is a path by Lake Bras d'Or
 I never go there anymore
 It's not the same, since you and I
 The path is narrow, over-grown
 The few that thread there, thread alone