The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
This garden needs a resurrection
Its former fettle frivoled with neglect
The founding family outcast
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
With care, the garden will restore itself
Be still, attend: intuit what it needs
This harvest will be unsurpassed
The flora murmurs potential it withholds
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
The forebears knew the shifting weather
Their wisdom honed through ages handed down
A depth of practice long amassed
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
The fern fronds shimmer in the hollows
The southern face absorbing warmth and light
Exuding whispers of the past
The tweet chorus chimes: here once were orange groves
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
Behold brassica oleracea
Its growing wild, thriving and vigorous
So here a new bed will be cast
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
Enough of patient observation
I need to sink my fingers in the loam
And toil in practice of my craft
Prepare to release the life this garden holds
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
Unthunk - Broccoli Lyrics
Unthunk - Broccoli Lyrics
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The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
This garden needs a resurrection
Its former fettle frivoled with neglect
The founding family outcast
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
With care, the garden will restore itself
Be still, attend: intuit what it needs
This harvest will be unsurpassed
The flora murmurs potential it withholds
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
The forebears knew the shifting weather
Their wisdom honed through ages handed down
A depth of practice long amassed
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
The fern fronds shimmer in the hollows
The southern face absorbing warmth and light
Exuding whispers of the past
The tweet chorus chimes: here once were orange groves
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
Behold brassica oleracea
Its growing wild, thriving and vigorous
So here a new bed will be cast
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
Enough of patient observation
I need to sink my fingers in the loam
And toil in practice of my craft
Prepare to release the life this garden holds
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
This garden needs a resurrection
Its former fettle frivoled with neglect
The founding family outcast
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
With care, the garden will restore itself
Be still, attend: intuit what it needs
This harvest will be unsurpassed
The flora murmurs potential it withholds
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
The forebears knew the shifting weather
Their wisdom honed through ages handed down
A depth of practice long amassed
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
The fern fronds shimmer in the hollows
The southern face absorbing warmth and light
Exuding whispers of the past
The tweet chorus chimes: here once were orange groves
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
Behold brassica oleracea
Its growing wild, thriving and vigorous
So here a new bed will be cast
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
Enough of patient observation
I need to sink my fingers in the loam
And toil in practice of my craft
Prepare to release the life this garden holds
The season's cycle is a breathing
Its heave and sigh evolving over time
Each moment born out of the last
A mise en abyme recursively unfolds
Writer: Trevor Tunnacliffe
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid