Holworks Music
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He stepped closer. She was already deep in conversation with a cluster of night-blooming jasmine. Her voice was a soft rhythm:“
When she talks to flowers
She is in so deep.
When she talks to flowers
She’ll give you dreamless sleep.”
The stranger felt it then—a gentle pull, like warm water closing over his head. Hear her. In deep, in sleep, in deep. His eyes grew heavy. The garden tilted. For a moment he floated in perfect stillness, no dreams, no worries, only the scent of her and the quiet breathing of the plants.
When he woke, she was still there, walking the same path, moonbeams still shining through her eyes.
Later, after the lead guitar of the wind had played its long, bending solo through the trees, she paused beside him. She placed one finger lightly on a leaf near his hand.“First you have to have a finger on a leaf,” she said softly. “Next you have to have a secret in your soul to keep.”
He looked at her. She was already turning back to the flowers, already whispering again.
And he understood: she was in so deep. Deeper than any path, deeper than any name. The garden lived because she spoke to it. And as long as she walked those green corridors, dispensing prizes and giving blossoms and fame, the rest of the world could keep its noise.She would keep talking to the flowers.
And the flowers would keep growing in her hand.
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When She Talks to Flowers
See her walking in the garden.
See her traversing the green.
See her moonbeams shining through her eyes.
See her as she dispenses everyone’s prize.
When she talks to flowers
She whispers their names
She gives them blossoms.
She gives them fame.
When she talks to flowers
They grow in her hand
When she talks to flowers
She could be a man.
What what? what what?
What what, is that fruity little smell?
What what? what what?
What what, is that fruity little smell?
When she talks to flowers
She is in so deep.
When she talks to flowers
She’ll give you dreamless sleep.
Hear her!
In deep, in sleep, in deep
When she talks to flowers
See her walking in the garden.
See her traversing the green.
See her moonbeams shining through her eyes.
See her as she dispenses everyone’s prize.
(Lead Guitar Break)
First you have to have a finger on a leaf,
Next you have to have a secret in your soul to keep.
When she talks to flowers
To remind you she is in so deep
See her walking in the garden.
See her traversing the green.
See her moonbeams shining through her eyes.
See her as she dispenses everyone’s prize.
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