Hello there sir!
                                                            ­                         Why how do you do?
I'm doing quite well.
How about you?
                                                            ­                         Fine, just fine.
                                                           ­                          But my begonias are dying.
                                                          ­                           They're wilting and wilting
                                                         ­                            There's no bother trying.
But try sir you must!
That is what we do.
To thrive and survive...
                                                      ­                               Am I not just waiting in queue?
                                                          ­                           Sitting and biding
                                                          ­                           As time doth draw near.
But your begonias are dying!
                                                          ­                           What should I have to fear?
For your garden you fool!
Why its all that we've all got!
A garden to till,
And begonias to rot,
                                                            ­                         But you've said it right there!
                                                          ­                           The plant's reached its prime.
                                                          ­                           And I am a man,
                                                            ­                         With limited time.
Aha! Now I've got you.
A son of Camus*
What if next its your roses?
                                                          ­                           Then I bid them adieu!
Your violets, hydrangeas?
And lilys to boot?
Do they mean nothing?
                                                        ­                             But sir neither do you.
I don't get your meaning...
                                                      ­                               And that is the key.
You will be alone!
                                                          ­                           And thus Ill be free!
So what will you do,
With no garden to grow,
Some dead begonias
You'll be lost to ago.
                                                            ­                         Perhaps you are right.
                                                          ­                           My era will pass
                                                            ­                         But Ill arrive at the answer
                                                          ­                           At long, long last
But what is it? You'll tell me?
When you get there I mean.
You remember my garden,
Here like its been.
                                                           ­                          My begonias are dying
                                                           ­                          That is all you need know
                                                            ­                         And maybe when yours do
                                                              ­                       You'll finally know
My garden is glorious
There'll be no Death here
                                                            ­                         What you have now
                                                                ­                     Will soon disappear.
                                                      ­                               But we're going in circles.
                                                        ­                             May your garden grow tall,
Why thank you good man!
                                                            ­                         Before Death steals it all.