| My Garden Written by, Marci Hanshue Copyright, March 25, 2001 |
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| Long ago I dreamed you were a king And I must be the unworthy Everything I wanted was so far away nothing to need inside of me I should have thought twice when You wouldn't wear your crown Still, part of me wondered If your feet touched the ground You cut me off before I could tell you You've held a place here in my heart It was naive of me to think our conversations would ever last Anything I muttered drifted away Now it's in the distant past I should have thought twice when I thought I might be heard Should have expected you to own the last words You cut me off before I could tell you You've held a place here in my heart |
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| And I've planted this garden for you, with the seeds that you left me, isn't that what I'm to do I've planted this garden for you, come sit in my garden won't you |
| And I've planted this garden for you, with the seeds that you left me, isn't that what I'm to do I've planted this garden for you, come sit in my garden won't you |
You showered your seeds with abandon Much too green to foresee your legacy The fruit has ripened one by one Now here it is dropping at your feet... You cut me off before I could tell you You've held a place here in my heart And I've planted this garden for you... Come sit in my garden won't you... |
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| You were always a dreamer You were always a little like me Our dreams were what held us together Now we're coming apart at the seams Always looking at the big picture When it came to our hearts we were blind We roam the same halls in our designer digs But there's no common ground in our minds Why are we so content to play out this charade Pretending that love...dwells in this place Cause that's...not where we live We live where it's hard to tell it like it is Where the words "I love you" are rarely ever heard-- Where memories of "I do" are faded & blurred Yeah that's...that's where we live I feel these walls closing in on me A little more everyday What seemed so important once upon a time Seems so insignificant today I still hold you in my arms My life's sweetest mystery I can still hear the sound of your beating heart And know it's not beating for me |
| Why are we so content to play out this charade Pretending that love...dwells in this place Cause that's...not where we live We live where it's hard to tell it like it is Where the words "I love you" are rarely ever heard--Where memories of "I do" are faded and blurred Ya that's...that's where we live Why are we so content to play out this charade Pretending that love...dwells in this place... |
| Not Where We Live Written by, Marci Hanshue & 233Linda Copyright, 2002 |
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