(Music by Greg Brown / poem of William Blake)

I went to the Garden of Love
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst
Where I used to play on the green

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore

And I saw it was filled with graves
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds
And binding with briars my joys and desires