The Secret Garden — The Divine Comedy

So much time, and so little to do I furnish my mind with pictures of you Fading portraits, peculiar name Replaced by your face in a big golden frame

Take me inside you— There I will find you Quietly sleeping; Water is seeping Down from the skies and Into your eyes and Into the secret garden

The icon hangs alone on the wall; Her sweet mouth is saying nothing at all Golden fragments of moments in time Tarnished with guilt for an innocent time