By the garden wall
Come in the spring
On a bluebirds wing
The vines are winding
And we will reap what we sow
To grow is to be the fruit of our lowest lows!
All my mistakes
I’ve made a few
Oh but there is nothing
I can’t turn love into
To be the effort
To be the grain
The iridescent sunlight
On a dying summer's day!
Hands in the mud
Buried in the soil
To be the seed!
To be the victor of the spoils!
If I could you know I would
Be the seed
Bury me in the ground and let the sunlight raise me
Come in the fall
By the garden wall
Come in the spring
On a bluebird's wing