Roses in the bush
Cut down at the garden's gate
It was too late
So much has fallen
Sound the broken bells
The priestess amongst us heeds
Bring in the seeds
A garden must grow
Woah, woah
It has been said
By the lights of the living and the dead
Make your bed
Even sinners go to drink the wine
Break the bread
Woah
Prisoners of the king
Are promised their freedom for
Planting a score of infantry vines
From the bowing earth
Uprises the weeds of war
Caving the floor
A renaissance born
Woah, woah, woah
It has been said
By the lights of the living and the dead
Make your bed
Even sinners go to drink the wine
Break the bread
Woah
Woah, it has been said
Yeah, make up your bed
Woah, lay down your head
Woah
