The Drought

The old man had lived for years
On this thriving patch of land
The winter's mild, the summer long
And all the flowers for friends

Didn't need anyone to talk to
Alone at the window still
The harvest in autumn kept him alive
He hadn't seen anyone in a while

This year was different
The rain had been staying away for weeks
And the soil in the garden was barren and bleak

He dug a trench
To fill with water and he prayed
But the gardeners flowers were dead
The gardeners flowers
Were dead

At night in the dark
He searched for light, for a spark
He went down in the cold
To seek like a loon for fools gold
Nothing to be found, nothing
The soil as dry as his lungs, pant for breath
The blood in his veins seemed to fade as well

As well
And the soil in the garden was barren and bleak

The old man had lived for years
On this thriving patch of land
The winter's mild, the summer long
And all the flowers for friends

Didn't need anyone to talk to
Alone at the window still
The harvest in autumn kept him alive
Now he surely had to die

This year was different
The rain had been staying away for weeks
And the soil in the garden was barren and bleak

He dug a trench
To fill with water and he prayed
But the gardeners flowers were dead