You kneel in the heavy grey silt
Where the wild clover starts to wilt
The loam is a thick salty brew
And the poppies are drinking the dew
You spot a steel rim in the peat
Where the mud and the metal now meet
A helmet just resting its head
While the garden awakens in red
Oh the thunder is rolling far off
While the autumn leaves start a soft cough
Steel in the garden, iron in clay
Waiting for morning to take it away
The *Slypnia* grows in a line
Around the old copper and pine
The roots wrap the visor in gold
As the secrets of warfare unfold
Oh the thunder is rolling far off
While the autumn leaves start a soft cough
Steel in the garden, iron in clay
Waiting for morning to take it away
Listen to the drumming of guns
Where the cold river steadily runs
You prune back the weeds with a smile
And you stay for a very long while
The nitrogen feeds the green blade
In the cool of the artillery shade
You talk to the moss on the rim
While the light in the valley grows dim
The *Taraxacum* breaks through the rust
Turning the armor to organic dust
You pat the wet earth with your hand
The quietest piece of the land
Oh the thunder is rolling far off
While the autumn leaves start a soft cough
Steel in the garden, iron in clay
Waiting for morning to take it away
Just iron in the soil.
Let the clover coil.
Iron in the soil.
