We met under the cherry tree On a sunday, quarter past three Over the rainbow, across the hayfield to the right Onwards to the other side
The boy and me, in the garden of may In the garden of my younger days Dreams learned to fly
Through my veins, elation flows In the meadow, the wild roses grow I perceived this place as my longed for heaven I sensed myself, phantasy rouse, in high spirits we douse
The boy and me, in the garden of may In the garden of my younger days Dreams learned to fly
