The Virgin Jerry - Walter (These Tomatoes Bleed)

The gardener and the garden
Bond over their love of rain

He could walk a thousand miles in his sandals
But binoculars see just as far
And his breath, but a toadstool

There's a cold cup of coffee in every room
He smells it
The humanoid emerges

Walter, Walter, Oh Walter

You better look up
And feel the

Touch of cuff on wrist
Won't you give a home the right to exist
And you can slip my name in your coat jacket pocket
Pull up your boots
And press the corner to the flame

There's a pressure to pull the string taut
To feel it in his tiny limbs
He strays from home

He owes his life to alchemy
And his path to a convenient hole in his pocket
The creator weeps

Walter, Walter, Oh Walter

You better look out
And feel the sun

A reappearing tree a familiar face
A country moon white as dinner plates
A poison root stuck between my teeth
A stunted growth bubbling underneath

And I won't come back home again

Written by:
Brian Huetteman

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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The Virgin Jerry

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Under a Crouching Sun Under a Crouching Sun