Fourth Floor

On the fourth floor of the building
 With the shallow window box
 She's digging in the soil with a silver spoon
 Her hands inside rubber gloves
 Planting seeds, pulling up weeds
 The cycle of life is complete
 Who would have thought it, in a city of stone
 Four floors above the street
 I cannot tell what kind of flowers they are
 I'm too far below on the street
 But the color they add to the building so drab
 Brings a warm splash of welcome relief
 Yeah, it's something worthwhile
 For the sun to shine on
 A reason to radiate heat
 Well that small window box,
 It was a skipping my feet
 Four floors below on the street
 For every good seed she plants in the soil
 There's a dozen bad waiting to grow
 To strangle the goodness she's trying to nurture
 To kill all the seed that she's sown
 Every time you water the garden
 You also water the weeds
 A foul administration of sin and temptation
 Four floors above the street
 Some people don't understand why she does it
 Some people look for a reason
 Maybe she just likes the feel of the soil
 Or keeping in tune with the seasons
 Maybe she has so much pride in herself
 Got to keep it all visually pleasing
 A small paradise in a world of concrete
 Four floors above the street
 A small paradise in a world of concrete
 A small paradise in a world of concrete
 A small paradise in a world of concrete
 Four floors above the street