The Cure - Hanging Garden

Breathe in the vapours pure

Of aspirations and intentions pure

Let it take root, let it sprout

Exhale and feel it turn you inside out

Hearken, brothers bold

And remember the battles lost — some won

Still the crooked nail of desperation

Keeps knocking on your skull

We longed to reach the stars

And strived for the eternal fire

Prometheus, please watch over us

In our hour long since grown cold

Hearken, brothers bold

And remember the battles lost — some won

Stand vigil for those now gone

Keep dreaming of salvation

Never to come

Forget all the atonement

Keep reaching towards the cure

The searing fire that cleanses

It snares, entices, and lures

Embrace this terminal fever

The one brought up with such care

Turn the key of deliverance

Plunge down the finger that brands you a god