Waifs, The lyrics

On the fourth floor of the building With the shallow window box She's digging in the soil with a silver spoon Her hands inside rubber gloves Planting seeds, pulling up weeds The cycle of life is complete Who would have thought it, in a city of stone Four floors above the street I cannot tell what kind of flowers they are I'm too far below on the street But the color they add to the building so drab Brings a warm splash of welcome relief Yeah, it's something worthwhile for the sun to shine on A reason to radiate heat Well that small window box, it was a skipping my feet Four floors below on the street For every good seed she plants in the soil There's a dozen bad waiting to grow To strangle the goodness she's trying to nurture To kill all the seed that she's sown Every time you water the garden You also water the weeds A foul administration of sin and temptation Four floors above the street Some people don't understand why she does it Some people look for a reason Maybe she just likes the feel of the soil Or keeping in tune with the seasons Maybe she has so much pride in herself Got to keep it all visually pleasing A small paradise in a world of concrete Four floors above the street A small paradise in a world of concrete A small paradise in a world of concrete A small paradise in a world of concrete Four floors above the street Get This Ringtone

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