Deep in the gardens we see things we dare not speak of. In the crisp and silver mornings we make homes for them to live in.
With our bellies full with breakfast and our minds alive with questions we ride through the archways plagued with flowers past the hum of honeycomb towers.
Do you remember the times when we were young, wild and fine? We had no answers we didn't need them.
We found cloths in the yard and chanted words in the dark to show our glory.