Down in the Garden

My pop-folk hit! 

the buttercups bow their heads

nodding in the early june breeze 

the sunbeams are stained with green

dancing through the brand-new leaves 

and it's good

it's good good good 

down in the garden

i've got apple flesh between my teeth

ants criss-crossing over my feet

a happy dog is at my heels

and I know just how god must feel

and it's good

it's good good good 

down in the garden

everything that's living will not always be alive

but i won't spend my days grieving for something that hasn't died

sure as mountains turn to gravel, and iron turns to rust

i know my lovely garden will someday turn to dust

how much of this will i get to keep

from underneath the sun's daily sweep?

i will not mourn the sun's retreat

for the light is strong 

and the day is deep

and it's good

it's good good good 

down in the garden

I've written about my family home before, but heck, you can't write too much about Willowbrae! And now you can actually go stay there and see for yourself what a splendid place it is. A farmhouse on a hill, surrounded by maple woods and lilac bushes, horses grazing in apple orchards and border collies sitting at attention waiting to go for a romp... Honestly, it's so nice that I can hardly stand it. I was lucky enough to grow up there and now I go back as often as I can afford the rental car. This song was written probably in June of 2012, right before I got married. 

Like all my songs, even the happiest ones, I manage to give a nod to the Grim Reaper and his role in the world. There's nothing so pleasant that I can't cram death into it somehow. I've been doing it so long that I now consider it to be my signature move.