The Garden
By Rush
October 21, 2018
In this one of many possible worlds,
All for the best or some bizarre test?
It is what it is and whatever,
Time is still the infinite jest
The arrow flies when you dream,
The hours tick away,
The cells tick away
The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes,
The hours tick away,
They tick away
The measure of a life,
Is a measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn so easily burned
In the fullness of time,
A garden to nurture and protect
In the rise and the set of the sun,
'Til the stars go spinning,
Spinning 'round the night,
Oh, it is what it is, and forever,
Each moment a memory in flight
The arrow flies while you breathe,
The hours tick away,
The cells tick away
The Watchmaker has time up his sleeve,
The hours tick away,
They tick away
The measure of a life,
Is a measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn so easily burned
In the fullness of time,
A garden to nurture and protect
(It's a measure of a life)
The treasure of a life,
Is a measure of love and respect,
The way you live,
The gifts that you give
In the fullness of time,
It's the only return that you expect
The future disappears into memory,
With only a moment between,
Forever dwells in that moment,
Hope is what remains to be seen
In the fullness of time,
A garden to nurture and protect
(It's a measure of a life)
(It's a measure of a life)
(It's a measure of a life)
(It's a measure of a life)
(It's a measure of a life)
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