Lyrics:

The brownfields turn green
You’re walking in his garden
I think it is a form of art
In its own way
The neighbourhood is glad with this garden
No hiding in streets
His mother is here
Little dealers have elder sisters
Well they are here
The strawberries fall right in your hand
They fall right in your hand
It’s hard to listen
It’s so hard to see
When all you see is shadows
And all you hear is reversed speakers
Push activate
Your life will be the same
As it ever was
As it ever was
Strawberry tower makes you happy
Let’s question the fine arts
As they are nowadays
So very fine
The neighbourhood
Is glad with this garden
Don’t blame it on the man
When he closes his gate
Know it’s his but he shares it
With all of us
It’s hard to listen
It’s so hard to see
When all you see is shadows
And all you hear is reversed speakers
Push activate
Your life will be the same
As it ever was
As it ever was
It’s hard to listen
It’s so hard to see
When all you see is shadows
And all you hear is jeepers creepers
Push activate
Your life will be the same
As it ever was