Toward the leafs Scattered brushed Long brown leadened Swirl of haze trodden The spring garden Merges with Merges down With the forgotten CHORUS Flowers, Fawn Shadows mere On a puppet horizon We want that lion On our skin The best of the set we think we've gotten As if we possess That we would rise To a master's neight A worse sublime When the tatooist claws in And starts his trace We grimacing and cry, "foul" CHORUS Save only the lion's tail The pain of imprint not what we thought The lion safe from knotted claws Is not what we've forgotten Towards that wall Of scattered brush Long and proud Forgotten Swirl of haze Swirl of trust The spring garden That we've trodden CHORUS