Gardens: Fly-By
The Garden" In this one of many possible worlds, All for the best or some bizarre test It is what it is and whatever, Time is still the infinite jest The arrow flies when you dream, The hours tick away, The cells tick away The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes, The hours tick away, they tick away The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect, So hard to earn so easily burned The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect, So hard to earn so easily burned In the fullness of time, A garden to nurture and protect In the rise and the set of the sun, 'Til the stars go spinning, Spinning 'round the night Oh, it is what it is, and forever Each moment a memory in flight The arrow flies while you breathe, The hours tick away, The cells tick away, The Watchmaker has time up his sleeve, The hours tick away, they tick away The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect, So hard to earn so easily burned