in the land of flowers
there came the powers
from the ploughers
to pluck our beautiful flowers
our flowers were lost
gone in the winds of ill time
so the ploughers were cursed
while they were not at their prime
The flowers were burnt
the flowers were hurt
but the flowers still lived!
Now the forest could grieve
Hurrah! The sun is now up!
the night has been stopped
our flowers are now free
to grow to beautify the trees
Hurrah! The ploughers are tired
Alas! They're not that tired
Hurrah!!! The flowers are now trees
they have tasted the breeze
they say 'tis so sweet
our young flowers, must also breathe
The ploughers are back
with their beautiful traps
and their beautiful lies
and trees and flowers they enticed
The ploughers are still under the curse
now they're at their prime
now in the winds of ill time
our flowers are lost
nay, they're not lost
they're given away
to give the ploughers sway and say
in the presence of their mates
We are now as fools
to the hungry, we are now fools
we are now in the hire
to the ploughers when under fire
again have come the powers
from the cursed ploughers
as they pluck our fading flowers
our flowers are now dead
But the young flowers breathe
they say 'tis not sweet
they recognise the taste of deceit
they swear that they won't permit
the plowers must flee
or face the thorns
and the thorns kill!
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