Withering in gardens left dry

Withering in gardens left dry

I'm still soaked from their old chokes

Oh what a mess

Oh what a mess I've made now

Oh what a mess

Oh what a mess of things I've made now

It's such a shame; all that dirt couldn't grow

I put the blame all on the shine and less the soil

We must wilt away if we wish to someday grow

But I've wilted and waned over and over

The soil is as far as I can go

The soil is as far as I can go

The soil is as far as I can go

The soil is as far as I can go

That night I lied awake thinking over things

So fixed and quick to burst into blame

At any loss of control, without sense of self

It shrouds and distills; it stings and it welts

Though all our plans were dense with trees

I discerned only leaves that were brittle and creased

As I just lied awake overthinking things

Life still went on with or without