Never Look Backwards Or You'll Fall Down

There Rise Her Timeless Capitals Of Empires Daily Born, Whose Plinths Are Laid At Midnight And Whose Streets Are Packed At Morn; And Here Come Tired Youths And Maids That Feign To Love Or Sin In Tones Like Rusty Razor Blades To Tunes Like Smitten Tin.

At Two O'clock In The Morning, If You Open Your Window And Listen, You Will Hear The Feet Of The Wind That Is Going To Call The Sun. And The Trees In The Shadow Rustle And The Trees In The Moonlight Glisten, And Though It Is Deep, Dark Night, You Feel That The Night Is Done.

Adam Was A Gardener, And God, Who Made Him, Sees That Half Of All Good Gardening Is Done Upon The Knees.

It Was The Forty-fathom Slumber That Clears The Soul And Eye And Heart, And Sends You To Breakfast Ravening.

Oh, Adam Was A Gardener, And God Who Made Him Sees That Half A Proper Gardener's Work Is Done Upon His Knees, So When Your Work Is Finished, You Can Wash Your Hands And Pray For The Glory Of The Garden, That It May Not Pass Away!