Garden Bed

They say you're suffering
The sweetest kind of illness of the brain
And there's no way you'll ever go insane
While I'm a loser
I feel it all and let it all hang out
And pay for it with all the things I doubt

But your head is buried in my Garden
It wasn't me who put it there
Cause I didn't make it but I like to be
Polite and beg your pardon

And each one's a prayer
I shoot it out where I can never see
I like to make a fool out of me
To get the sting inside
I've wrestled with my eagle far too long
I'll say I did it all for a song

But don't you go thinking that I love you
I would like to mean it and for you to receive it
But I honestly believe that I'm above you



Credits
Writer(s): Simon Relf
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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