Garden over me, the secret I love most,. God and Man agree to giving up the ghost,. High above the moon, the sun has left the sky,. I would love to know if you're the reason why..
Helplessly held by the weeds, we are grown,. I tried talking sense to you, leave it alone;. I give in to the weight of the kick,. So weary of waiting and hoping for this,.
Across the plateau no clouds storm the sky,. Above the riverbed the world's run dry,. I beat the air, for those who hear,. And through the night my call goes out unheard,.
So the certanty is I can get no air,. Getting nowhere at all,. Open-ended and suspended one by one,. In the slipstream,. And Harvest hold the horrbag,.