Margaret Helen King

I was talking about this song with my Mum (the way I get her to like things sometimes is by talking about how terrible they are and making her defend them) and I asked her to interpret this song in a way that wasn't creepy and morbid. She did. She said that it was about waiting for a friend to meet God. And now that I look at it I wonder how I missed that in the first place. It's a lovely song...

I will hold your blue hand until you awake
I will keep back the grass growing on the rim of your grave
My, how your hair has grown
My, how your face is cold

Oh, I will hold your blue hand
Until you awake
Until you awake

There is a seed in your heart pressed deep
The roots are spreading in the cavities
Can you feel the shoots inside your ribcage?
Can you feel the life?

When will you break through the damp earth?
When will you see the shooting stars?

I don't shoot the stars, I don't shoot the stars
I don't rise the bread, I don't rise the bread
I don't send the sun out, I don't fold the sun in
I don't grow the seed I don't grow the seed

I am the gardener.