The Garden of England (Seeds of Love)

We sowed the seeds of love
We showed them how to sing
Grown with a knowing of something in their blood
Where ceremony begins
When the apron string unpinned

My garden was forsook
To weigh in on industry
Raised behind the altar, under oak and ash
I grew to a bonny rowan tree
Freely in my own country

But some old oak trees won’t twist
For they’re brittle beneath the bark
Better that limbs be broke and brought to ground
And service the light to dark, to dark, to dark
We’re just servants unto the dark

For the gatekeeper can’t stand by
For they must be bound to be free
Lightworking the liminal, listening to the land
And fingering at mystery
Not Sally, free and easy

Oh grief, oh grief have I
For the songs they go to decay
The garden of England once bloomed it’s sound assault
Now destined for some bouquet, some bouquet
No roses in this display

For the rose it bore a thorn
A spritz of wilful spark
But taming its temper to never pierce the palm
We’ll never touch the heart, the heart, the heart
No poison tip to the dart

We sowed the seeds of love
We showed them how to sing
Grown with a knowing of wildness in their blood
More than the sum of the everything
The old wow never wears thin...

Sweet as the birds in the spring, the spring
Home is when the heart sings, heart sing
The songs that tell of our own kith and kin
The old wow never wears thin...

Out of decay new life springs, it springs
As the anima sheds its own skin, it's skin
While this pebble rolls its big rings
The old wow never wears thin
The old wow never wears thin
Some of my favourite things
The old wow never wears thin