The Garden of England (Seeds of Love) [feat. Bernard Butler]

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... My garden was forsook To weigh in on industry Raised behind the altar, under oak and ash I grew to a bony rowan tree, tree, 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 But 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, 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 sings 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, and 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