At the bottom of the garden
i see you in robes of flowing stone
and though i doubt your hands are holy
you see through me as if i were a ghost
You invite me in your favour, in high fever
entering the fold
and i feel myself becoming, believing
returning from the cold
i would kiss your feet if you ask
just to bask in your everlasting glow
but will i still be in your favour, my saviour
if i turn from this road?
if i turn from this road...
At the bottom of the garden
i see you, the one i love the most
and though i know your hands can heal me
you walk through me as if you were a ghost
as if you were a ghost...
Nail me, nail me
nail me then let me down again
i wanna hear the crowd appealing,
"we love him, let him down
oh let him on down, c'mon let him down
please let him down..."