Sweet Nothing...

And to which the garden grows...

And to which the garden grows,
Genuflect you recompose
Sorry is, only Heaven knows
Curse the thorns and smell the rose

And I to her and she to me
A kindred deviousity
And like a holy roller's atomic wave
Are those left standing those who're saved?

Feeling life by tasting fear
Settle down your Bible’s near
Just whisper gently, as loud to shout
Bottle all -- so none fall out

Still the serpent slithers on its knees
Hidden then among the leaves
Pluck the apple, lick the fruit
Evil core sprung from evil root

Hence she to me and I to her
Testing, tasting will incur
As we pass the tree we’ll eat again
So just kiss your cross and say Amen

And to which the garden grows,
Genuflect you recompose
Sorry is, as if Heaven knows
And so it goes, God only knows