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The streets are always wet with rain |
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After a summer shower when I saw you standin' |
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In the garden in the garden wet with rain |
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You wiped the teardrops from your eye in sorrow |
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As we watched the petals fall down to the ground |
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And as I sat beside you I felt the |
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Great sadness that day in the garden |
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And then one day you came back home |
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You were a creature all in rapture |
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You had the key to your soul |
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And you did open that day you came back to the garden |
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The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face |
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The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine |
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And you were a violet colour as you |
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Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden |
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The summer breeze was blowin' on your face |
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Within your violet you treasure your summery words |
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And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine |
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Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden |
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And you went into a trance |
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Your childlike vision became so fine |
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And we heard the bells inside the church |
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We loved so much |
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And felt the presence of the youth of |
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Eternal summers in the garden |
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And as it touched your cheeks so lightly |
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Born again you were and blushed and we touched each other lightly |
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And we felt the presence of the Christ |
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And I turned to you and I said |
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No Guru, no method, no teacher |
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Just you and I and nature |
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And the father in the garden |
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No Guru, no method, no teacher |
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Just you and I and nature |
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And the Father and the |
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Son and the Holy Ghost |
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In the garden wet with rain |
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No Guru, no method, no teacher |
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Just you and I and nature and the holy ghost |
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In the garden, in the garden, wet with rain |
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No Guru, no method, no teacher |
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Just you and I and nature |
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And the Father in the garden |
