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Always there when he needed them
So he buried them underground
Alone with the flowers now
Proud of his green hands
And blood on his shoes
Then he prayed for the rain to come
Through the cracks in the autumn clouds
Armed with a watering can
And dreaming of the greenest field that bodies would grow
Running around
Have you seen greenhands?
He's up past the wall
Fooling us all
He's the organic man
With no one to call
And he shops for the groceries
Just to talk with the other men
Sweating and stammering
Living just to reattach before he gets old
