There grows a weed, looks like a flower Looks like baby's breath on a mirror
My girl and I rushed atop the altar The sacrifice was made It was not easy undertaking The roots gripped soft like a living grave
Oh young girl at the wedding Baby's breath in her hair A crowning lace above her face That will last a day Before it turns to hay
Good plans are made by hand I'd cut a clearing in the land And for a little bed For her to cry comfortable in
And each day I looked out on the lawn And I wondered what all was gone Until I saw it was lucky old me How could I run without losing anything? How could I run without becoming lean? It was agreed, it was agreed It was me tearing out the baby's breath
Oh I am a helpless man, so help me I'm on my knees gardening It was not a weed, it was a flower My baby's gone, oh where has my baby gone? And she was not a weed, she was a flower
And now I know you must reap what you sow, or sing