The Garden

In this one of many possible worlds
All for the best, or some bizarre test
It is what it is, and whatever
Time is still the infinite jest

The arrow flies when you dream;
The hours tick away
The cells tick away
The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes
The hours tick away
They tick away

The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect;
So hard to earn, so easily burned
The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect;
So hard to earn, so easily burned
In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect

In the rise and the set of the sun
Until the stars go spinning, spinning 'round the night
Oh, it is what is it is, and forever;
Each moment, a memory in flight

The arrow flies while you dream;
The hours tick away
The cells tick away
The Watchmaker has time up his sleeves
The hours tick away
They tick away

The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect;
So hard to earn, so easily burned
In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect
(It's a measure of a life)
The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect:
The way you live, the gifts that you give
In the fullness of time
Is the only return that you expect

The future disappears into memory
With only a moment between
Forever dwells in that moment;
Hope is what remains to be seen
Forever dwells in that moment;
Hope is what remains to be seen

In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect
(It's a measure of a life)
In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect
(It's a measure of a life)
In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect
(It's a measure of a life)
In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect

It's a measure of a life
It's a measure of a life
It's a measure of a life
It's a measure of a life