Will I become like the old man from next door?
Obsessed with fear of losing his mind
He soon couldn't take care of himself anymore
He had no friends or relatives
To look after him only once a week
Some male nurse dropped in

He was found in his bed, dehydrated
Unconscious, as he was
They brought him to a diffrent place
"We have never heard of him since"
He lived alone in his house for most of his life
And I wouldn't be suprised,
If he had died the same day they put him in a room
with the people he'd never seem before

He had a wild garden behind his house
so beautiful and dark
woodpeckers and squirrels lived there
and hedgehogs, mice and martens
Hazelnut-trees and wild strawberries grew
And cherries, apples and pears
And currants of red and black
All hidden in this private place

In the safty of the shadows the fragile fern slept
Aloneg the winding paths the wild-flowers wept
Snowdrops noddld their little heads in spring
Of which I do not know the names
And, of course, there was ivy everywhere

It happend the same week they took him away
Workers hacked down all the trees in the garden
Hired by the envious people outside
Who had always terrified
By the beauty that enchanted this place
And the darkness it was breathing
Yet, none of them could keep
The dead birds from singing