|
We are the roses in the garden |
|
Beauty with thorns among our leaves |
|
To pick a rose you ask your hands to bleed |
|
What is the reason for having roses |
|
When your blood is shed carelessly? |
|
It must be for something, more than vanity |
|
Believe me, the truth is we're not honest |
|
Not the people that we dream |
|
We're not as close as we could be |
|
Willing to grow but rains are shallow |
|
Barren and wind scattered seed |
|
on stone and dry land we will be |
|
Waiting for the light arisen |
|
To flood inside the prison |
|
And in that time |
|
Kind words alone will teach us |
|
No bitterness will reach us |
|
Reason will be guided, in another way |
|
All in time |
|
But the clock is another demon |
|
That devours our time in Eden |
|
In our paradise |
|
Will our eyes see well beneath us |
|
Flowers all divine? |
|
Is there still time? If we wake to discover |
|
In life a precious love |
|
Will that waking become more heavenly? |