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The Garden

de Rush

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
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.
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)
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)

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