Garden

My garden is all overgrown
And the weeds are creeping up on my home
Grass has grown over two-foot-high
And the trees are blocking out the sky
French windows won't open anymore
From the moss that's grown outside the door
A hundred birds are nesting in the trees
Looks like a wild-life sanctuary

But I'm not going to cut a single blade of grass
My garden will look just like the distant past
Before the days of agricultural land
Before the time when pebbles turned to sand
When I leave this house I'm going to stay
I'm forsaking my comforts to live another way
Get my clothes from heaps, my food from bins
My water from ponds and have tramps for all my friends

But I'm not going to cut a single blade of grass
My garden will look just like the distant past
Before the days of agricultural land
Before the time when pebbles turned to sand
When I leave this house I'm going to stay
I'm forsaking my comforts to live another way
Get my clothes from heaps, my food from bins
My water from ponds and have tramps for all my friends