At the bottom of the garden
I see you in robes of flowing stone
And though I doubt your hands are holy
You see through me as if I were a ghost

You invite me in your favour, in high fever
Entering the fold
And I feel myself becoming, believing
Returning from the cold
I would kiss your feet if you ask
Just to bask in your everlasting glow
But will I still be in your favour, my saviour
If I turn from this road?
If I turn from this road...

At the bottom of the garden
I see you, the one I love the most
And though I know your hands can heal me
You walk through me as if you were a ghost
As if you were a ghost...

Nail me, nail me
Nail me then let me down again
I wanna hear the crowd appealing,
"We love him, let him down
Oh let him on down, c'mon let him down
Please let him down..."