It’s lonely in the garden here, there’s no one but the cat. There’s nothing but the footsteps and you’ve had enough of that. You know they’re out to get you now, you know they’re on your case. It’s starting to unwind, you know they’re bound to play the ace. There’s a whiff of desolation in the air, in the air. There’s a whiff of desolation in the air. It’s lonely in the garden here, there’s no one but the snails Criss-crossing in the darkness leaving phosphorescent trails. You know they’ll never let you go; you’re just a waste…
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