Passed a neglected garden of late. It seemed in quite a sorry state. Some men came to make some notes. But seemed to give it little thought. Up on high the grasses grow. Beneath the windows row by row. The other plants just cry with pain. I guess we'll never grow again. They have taken up our space on the ground Like an advancing army I'll be bound. They are taking our water Oh my. As they journey to the sky. Perhaps it soon will be resolved. And peace will reign. Once again