| Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet bulbs grow in my lady’s garden
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| Warm, warm, warm, warm, warm sun fingers wave in my lady’s garden
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| Flowers dance, their faces brave
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| Come talk freely in the garden of my lady
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| Her hominy smile, her hominy snatch
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| Only a crow would peck and a chicken would scratch
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| Her lips turned up to kiss
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| I see you Phoebe baby in your bonnet
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| With the sunset written on it
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| In the shadow of a tree
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| Curled around your knee in color
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| And just behind you was the sea of negativity
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| Tinkling like mercury in the wind
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| Her feet kept by the ground, her toes bare brown
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| Her carriage she abandoned like a hand-me-down
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| She walked back into nature, a queen uncrowned
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| She had just recognized herself to be an heir to the throne
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| Her garden gate swings lightly without weight
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| Open to most anyone that needs a little freedom
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| For God’s sake
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| Oh come as many as you can
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| In dark or light, you’re free to grow as flowers
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| Share her throne and use her toothbrush
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| And spend some interesting hours |