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Musings of a new American.
Our Time In Eden by 10,000 Maniacs


We are the roses in the garden
Beauty with thorns upon our leaves.
To pick a rose you ask your hands to bleed.
What is the reason for having roses,
When your blood is shed carelessly?
It must be for something more than vanity.

The truth is, we know that we're not honest;
Not the people that we dream.
We're not as close as we could be.
Willing to grow, but rains are shallow;
Barren and wind-scattered seeds.
On stone and dry land, we will be:

Waiting for the light, arisen
To flood inside the prison.

        And in that time:

Kind words alone will teach us.
No bitterness will reach us.
Reason will be guided in another way.

        All in time:

But the clock is another demon
That devours our time in Eden;
In our Paradise.

Will our eyes see well beneath us?
Flowers all divine?
Is there still time?
If we wake to discover

    In life
    A precious love,
    Will that waking become

More heavenly?





 
 
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