| Song | The Green Years |
| Artist | Sad Lovers and Giants |
| Album | The Mirror Test |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| I can tell myself I know the answers | |
| Try to puzzle out the painful things I’ve yet to learn | |
| But i don’t understand the subtle plan | |
| And still I wonder | |
| As the seeds we’ve sown fall to earth and grow | |
| In a barren land | |
| Sheltered in our seasoned hardness | |
| Shall we shed a stagnant tear to ease our wooden hearts? | |
| Well that depends | |
| With our precious hands clutching painted sand | |
| And our broken wheels in doubt as we turn for home | |
| Melting in a dream of gardens | |
| I was walking through the trees when someone called my name | |
| I long to trespass down that path again | |
| And though I’ve no regrets | |
| I can still recall when the first leaves fall | |
| How I lost my way | |
| Parachuting into darkness | |
| Doesn’t every wounded hero live to fight again? | |
| I’m baling out | |
| But the profiteers stole my surplus years | |
| Am I somersaulting headlong into the ground? |
| I can tell myself I know the answers | |
| Try to puzzle out the painful things I' ve yet to learn | |
| But i don' t understand the subtle plan | |
| And still I wonder | |
| As the seeds we' ve sown fall to earth and grow | |
| In a barren land | |
| Sheltered in our seasoned hardness | |
| Shall we shed a stagnant tear to ease our wooden hearts? | |
| Well that depends | |
| With our precious hands clutching painted sand | |
| And our broken wheels in doubt as we turn for home | |
| Melting in a dream of gardens | |
| I was walking through the trees when someone called my name | |
| I long to trespass down that path again | |
| And though I' ve no regrets | |
| I can still recall when the first leaves fall | |
| How I lost my way | |
| Parachuting into darkness | |
| Doesn' t every wounded hero live to fight again? | |
| I' m baling out | |
| But the profiteers stole my surplus years | |
| Am I somersaulting headlong into the ground? |
| I can tell myself I know the answers | |
| Try to puzzle out the painful things I' ve yet to learn | |
| But i don' t understand the subtle plan | |
| And still I wonder | |
| As the seeds we' ve sown fall to earth and grow | |
| In a barren land | |
| Sheltered in our seasoned hardness | |
| Shall we shed a stagnant tear to ease our wooden hearts? | |
| Well that depends | |
| With our precious hands clutching painted sand | |
| And our broken wheels in doubt as we turn for home | |
| Melting in a dream of gardens | |
| I was walking through the trees when someone called my name | |
| I long to trespass down that path again | |
| And though I' ve no regrets | |
| I can still recall when the first leaves fall | |
| How I lost my way | |
| Parachuting into darkness | |
| Doesn' t every wounded hero live to fight again? | |
| I' m baling out | |
| But the profiteers stole my surplus years | |
| Am I somersaulting headlong into the ground? |