Vic Chesnutt - The Garden lyrics

[Vic Chesnutt - The Garden lyrics]

Pus on your finger, mud on your mind
The tiller is broken, your garden is crying
There's been too much rain
Tomatoes they split
Spring was a beauty but she
Turned into a beast
Your boy is rebellious, he refuses to work
Your daughter is a fine one
But allergic to dirt
The Preacher came a'calling
He wants a fresh ham your wife she obliges
Thaws the one you was saving
So you piddle in the garden
You pick at the ground
Your family is fighting, oh
But you don't hear a sound

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