[Daughter:] "Mother, father, where did you go? 
I hear the flowers as they speak below. 
Someone help me, I'm so afraid.
The shape in the distance [bad word] my way."

"Oh, [bad word] hold me." 
Said the woman all covered in leaves. [bad word] again; 
The man with the roses
That grow from his hands."

I'm your gardener
I'm your gardener
I'm your gardener

"Mother, your poor hands.
The better to hold yours again.
And where did he go?"
I am him, my love.
Watch my garden grow.
Little girl, standing there 
With your daddy's skin
And your momma's hair.
I'll have you know
I will feed them to my roses
And you're next!

I am the noises that you hear when you're in bed.
And I'll be the last face that you see before you're dead.
With your father gone and your mom in chains,
I have time to sleep in late.
Your mother never looked so good.
Your daddy should have brought his gun.
Now sleep child just sleep.
And when you wake you will grow at my feet.
Yes, when you wake you'll be beautiful again.