Whiskey Garden

One fine summer in May
John Doe the bookkeeper working all for his pay
Work all your weeks and months and your years away

Push all your papers and blink
The machine is just a chain and he’s just another link
Push all the days of your life and never leave the brink

So he’ll grow whiskey garden
Grow gold like a field of rye
He’ll grow whiskey garden
Go broke like a wheel of lies

Go back home to his small apartment
Dishes and newspapers bills that he never sent
Sit in your corner and think of all the monеy you spent

On your whiskey garden
Grow gold likе a field of rye
Your whiskey garden
Go broke like a wheel of lies

And it never ends
The bottle and the coffin are your only friends
Your only friends

One fine summer in May
John Doe the bookkeeper working all for his pay
Work all your weeks and months and your years away

On your whiskey garden
Grow gold like a field of rye
On your whiskey garden
Go broke like a wheel of lies

He’ll grow whiskey garden
Grow gold like a field of rye
He’ll grow whiskey garden
Go broke like a wheel of lies