Dizraeli - To The Garden lyrics

In the garden made of snow
Nothing living lies below
Hear the songbird breathing slow
In a garden made of snow

One quarter of the muddy platoon, man
And I'm not in it for the
Drugs and the poontang
Release songs like they're coloured balloons
Man see them rise 'til they bump
On the moon landscape
I'm rooted but my head's in the clouds though
Etch a message in indelible sound, bro
My letters spread around the
Globe like Katrina did
Anti hurricane 'cause I build
Where my thesis hit's
Still a storm, you can't shutter me in voodoo
Must travel like Huckleberry Finn used to
Sketch a picture of your mum in a tin tutu
Just to confuse you

Then I make a tune for your
Buttocks and hips to move to
Let your buttoned-up lips get
Loose to the process
No need for the singer, mate
I speared Britney then I
Peed in the Timberlake
Finally a little peace from the Cilla game
The empty-V screen and the titty shake
Zim- zimmer frame
I ate the keys to your Beamer
Lay by from the speed of the interstate

In the garden made of sand
Mona Lisa leads the band
They strike up when she lifts her hand
In a garden made of sand

I'm loving this
It's brilliant when my friends are round me
Without breaking objects, we break boundaries
At times we do break objects
And somebody calls the state mounties
But generally
We make sounds with our mouth-pieces
It's brilliant
The fact that these scriptures even
At times make it onto CDs
It's double-D wicked
Like when you nuzzle the sweet
Tit's of your lover
And each minute fills infinity's limit's
Bountiful the beautiful views of the town
That I hang around, it's cool
Sometimes I bike out to the Downs
And lounge in full sunshine this one time
I stripped down to my bouncy balls
Browned it all off in the sun
Then cooled off in a trout pool
That's it! At least it's what
I feel I'm looking for
The flow of xi and peace of
Which you read in Buddhist thought
But, it's rawer than that
It's the gaps between the teeth
Of the deepest sea creatures that
Attack squid with black ink, kinetic jaw
It's the pitted paw of the jackal
The livid roar of the grizzled bear
The armpit itch of the poet
And it's all sitting there
Blood, stones, sticks, soil
While you're sat listening to Chris Moyles

In a garden made of worms
New Domestos kills the germs
Press-ups make your pickle firm
In a garden made of worms