This is a song, not like the other ones
Secret and selfish and somewhat hollow
In the middle of this song there seemed to grown another
Of indeterminate length and origin
To populate a people's song, first you must do something wrong
If you've never been infirm you can never be strong
Prune your rose bushes, Glenn
Or you'll never see your home again
Country and city, kingdom of the well, of the unwell
You dwell in them both like a ghost -
When old King George said to my long dead kin
"Ten summers and winters in Arthur will do you in"
He cut out his heart and he buried the sin there in England
Prune your rose bushes Glenn
Oh they'll grow up again
There may still be a next year, who knows?
If you're lonely take a drink
There are better things to think
Think on ancient cities, sunsets and girls in Spring
You needed a song, I needed one too
So keep listening
For my offer to you
Take it with good grace and humour too
First came the golden age
When there was no need of proof
When lions ate flowers
And your house didn't need a roof
Then came the silver days
When a boy saw himself for the first time
In the reflection of a blade
Then he saw the way
To populate a people's song
First he must do something wrong
If you've never heard the music you never will
Prune your rose bushes Glenn
So they'll soon grow up again
There may still be a next year, who knows?
If you're lonely, take a drink
There are better things to think
Think on ancient cities, sunsets and girls in Spring
Because all the tears that you mend
They will open up again
And weren't you suppose to call your friends this evening?
It rained all night the day I left
The weather it was fine
It rained all night the day I left