Out in the garden darkness sets
The chickens in bed whilst the moon wakes up the flowers
I listen in to the owls
Alex says, “Cut the grass”
You don’t make friends with gnomes like that
Trim the hedge, pull up plants
Their little town’s not going to last
Going to last
Hide from the moment and cabbages
And trinkets under my bedroom
Out of the window, I hope he doesn’t come any closer
Alex says, “Cut the grass”
You don’t make friends with gnomes like that
Trim the hedge, pull up plants
Their little town’s not going to last
Going to last
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