Inch by inch, row by row,
gonna make this garden grow
if it’s the last thing I do –
What do you mean all it takes
is a rake and a hoe?
This piece of fertile ground
is a piece of work!
Someone had better bless
these seeds I sow,
if they’re ever going to grow
with all this rain comin’ tumblin’ down.
Pullin’ weeds and pickin’ stones
is right! Where do they all come from,
and why do I need a special tool
to haul each one from the ground?
(A rake and a hoe – yeah, right.)
Grain for grain, if the weeds
don't take over first.
I’ll find my place in nature’s chain
one of these days… I hope...
I’m kind of lost among the weeds right now –
Where’s that music of the land
when I need it?
So plant your rows straight and long –
Hahahahaha!
These rows will need more than prayer and song
if they’re going to straighten out.
Old crow watching hungrily
is going to dig up all of my seeds,
that feathered thief up there, indeed.
Where’s that bird netting
and those shiny CDs?
Inch by inch, row by row,
I think this garden’s gonna grow,
whether or not I have anything to do with it.
The seeds will be warmed from below,
the rain will come tumbling down,
the seeds will burst with life
and I can put all those tools away.
At least for a day.
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