I wrote Winter Garden about five years ago and stumbled upon it this weekend while sifting through some old notes.
rock
music
jazz
blues
luxembourg
hungarian
cabomano
Story behind the song
I can't quite remember what exactly drove me to write it. It's a general reflection about how empty everything is under the surface. Nothing has any meaning unless you put yourself into it. I couldn't.
Lyrics
A crack behind the door
A dusty open drawer
The wonders of the world exposed for what they are
Almost sleeping
Driving my car
Left the city with a frozen heart
Life, as always, in the winter garden
A book left on the shelf
Never opened, never read
All the time we've spent exposed for what it's worth
Almost sleeping
Driving my car
Left the city with a frozen heart
Life, as always, in the winter garden
There's a hole in every tree
A gentle rumble in the sea
Every little prayer exposed for what it's worth
Almost sleeping
On a highway scar
Left the city with a frozen heart
Life, as always, in the winter garden
Where's the violence?
Where's the warmth?
Where's the comfort?
Where's the blood?
Where's the anger?
Where's the love?
Where's the passion I've been searching for?