Lyrics

Once upon a time I found a garden Picked the brightest things that I could see; An apron full of Mr Harding's flowers I didn't know that he was watching me Straight away my mother ran to tell him Wondering what he would say or do Mr Harding smiled and said, "She's just a little child; I knew that she'd be picking them for you." By the fire dad would tell me stories One of them concerned a garden too Where the lion and the lamb lay down together And every lovely fruit and flower grew The gardener sent his children in to play there Rejoicing in the brightness of the day But when they went exploring and took a fruit to taste He cursed them both and sent them on their way Even then I realised in my childish mind That he wasn't a proper gardener of the Mr Harding kind Mr Harding's garden was all taken By lesser men with concrete in their minds Factory chimneys grew instead of daisies No butterflies from that assembly line My mother faded faster than a flower Dad sat in the darkness and cried Mr Harding moves a little slower than before But still he tends the grave where they both lie Wherever it is they've gone to I hope that they will find A proper sort of garden of the Mr Harding kind The foolish woman sometimes feels despairing And thinks it seems so very hard to find The child tries to plant a little everywhere she goes That special love of the Mr Harding kind Someday when I'm older maybe I will find That I've grown into a gardener of the Mr Harding kind