| On beds of roses lies the scent of oblivion
|
| Yet its thorns prick everyone
|
| Oh, little seed what soil did you plant yourself in?
|
| As the rain pitter-patters
|
| It pools and gathers to your roots and to your limbs
|
| We wanted to thrive but now we’re overgrown
|
| Swallowing all our old hopes
|
| Cut us down, we’ll rise again slow
|
| Wilt for me flower
|
| I’ll replant you too From the soil to
|
| The seed, you’ll be nourished endlessly
|
| When the planets all align and the sun is high
|
| You’ll bloom and come into your own
|
| To plant your feet, become unsown
|
| So little sprout don’t go and spread yourself thin
|
| Think of every dirt patch as a new beginning
|
| And every seed as our kin All brothers and sisters from a life below
|
| Where the grass cuts like razors So our spirits must learn to regrow
|
| Wilt for me flower
|
| I’ll replant you too From the soil to
|
| The seed, you’ll be nourished endlessly
|
| When the planets all align and the sun is high
|
| You’ll bloom and come into your own
|
| To plant your feet, become unsown
|
| So you have found a place to bloom
|
| Yet wisteria has taken you It en-wreaths you in its clasp even
|
| Though so much nature has passed
|
| Between its arms I couldn’t help but stay
|
| I’ll stay and…
|
| I’ll tend the garden for her I’ll become the sower
|
| Wilt for me flower
|
| I’ll replant you too From the soil to
|
| The seed, you’ll be nourished endlessly
|
| When the planets all align and the sun is high
|
| You’ll bloom and come into your own
|
| To plant your feet, become unsown
|
| (Oh, the weeds how they grow / in a garden
|
| Begotten by woe / oh Mary, we’ve come unsown) |