Lily of the Valley

I’m on a cusp of knowing

I’m the tool

I like to plan my outings

With ruthless rules

The clock will strike

And I’ll be in my room

I’d rather be in my garden

South of here

‘Cause I have a friend she is someone

I hold dear

I see her once a year

'Cause when my face is red

I’m only good to cry

And when I’m hurting her

I can’t tell black from white

When I leave my house to the gardens

North of here

I will trust you

With the flowers I grew over the years

And I promise they will grow on you too

'Cause when my face is red

I’m only good to cry

And when I’m hurting her

I can’t tell black from white

When my face is red

I’m only good to cry

And when I’m hurting

I can’t tell black from white