Sitting in the garden


Sitting in the garden apples on the trees.
The bird box was empty so moved in the bees.

neighbours grass looksgreener don’t be deceived.
For his family has left him no love is received.

Sun pushes higher he retreated to his bed.
But if he continues like this he’ll have his own gun to his head.

The Man once respected now in a box and he’s dead.
The dogs and his daughter wonder how they will be fed.

Stand up and be strong.
And sing a sweet song.
For then everything shite.
Will be covered by light

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