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I'll be back to pull the garden. Spring has proven winter cruel. And all of summer's beauty lies there rotting. Stripped like yours from you. And I know I can't stand remembering the dirt under our fingernails. The silence, your defense; tired over tired hand. And we spent December given our best shot at hating; but now, as I remember, we had no reason to abuse. I'll force God to notice that He is giving nothing back. And all of us were wet out in the boneyard; He washed the tears from you. And I know you Songtextedeserve none of this, my distance as we stole flowers from his grave. The silence, my defense; tired over tired hand. And I recall the ways you pretended not to notice, but we both sowed the soil that grew only what could die. And if you believe that I tried only to deceive: you know that's not true. Aus Songtexte Mania