Later someone entered the garden and bashed the snake's brains in with a rock
Basically everyone stood around among the long black cars in a state of shock
Everything got sad, sad as a wind chime, sad as streamers, sad as a single lost sock
There are many snakes, many trees, many gardens to unlock

The media and its complicitous reader blew the whole thing out of all proportion
The snake became a serpent and in a typical tabloid distortion the dead tree grew apples, the wasteland, paradise, God was brought in, blame apportioned
The whole thing went tits up to the ceiling, a complete fuck-up, and a total abortion
It's like a rap song

The children let off handfuls of balloons into the sky, they huddled under the marquee
The wind chime stopped, the streamers flagged, the straight sailing ships on the sea
There is a tollgate now in paradise, absolutely nothing is for free

What's the worst that can happen?
Turning, pushing the hair from your face and smiling at me.