Down in the Garden

Down in the garden,

Is a willow tree,

Its hair in the breeze,

Whispers to me.

A voice is calling,

From deep inside,

It's longing to find,

One of its kind.

()

For I am the rising sun,

I am the birdsong when the day is done.

I am the tear in your eye,

I am alive.

Down in the garden,

Where the mushrooms grow,

And the moss-covered stone,

Shows me home,

Wet soil on my fingers,

I draw back the veil,

And I say a prayer,

But I'm not scared.

Down in the gardens,

Leaves will fall,

Down to the ground,

Without a sound,

If ever you need me,

There's a willow tree,

It's hair in the breeze,

That's where I'll be.