Garden to Grace (Mantha’s Tuba remix )

tuba, big bass drum, many voices, deep male vocals, background voices

V5.5

[intro][tuba]

[Verse 1] 
When the owl in the ivy gives a judgmental stare
And there’s a scent of fermented manure in the air
Old Gnorman the Bold lets out a mighty owl hoot
(He’s got a ceramic owl’s head glued onto his boot)
The plastic flamingos stop guarding the porch
And light up the scene with a bamboo-wick torch
They drag out the mower—the old-fashioned kind
Leaving a trail of crunchy snail shells behind!

[Chorus]
Oh, we’re banging in the shed on a Saturday night
With a strobe-light made from a glow-worm in flight!
The gnomes are on rhythm, the Foxgloves on bass
They’re slapping their petals all over the place
From the potting-soil mosh pit to the rusty tool bin
When the terra-cotta rumbles, let the fun begin!

[Verse 2]
Barnaby Button’s the Hooter-in-Chief
Playing a hollowed-out parsnip and a bay-laurel leaf
He blows through a nozzle, it sounds like a train
Waking the worms and the slugs in the drain
The drummer’s a Squirrel on a stack of seed-trays
He’s been in a nut-induced, jazz-fusion haze
While the lead singer Gnorman, with a beard full of moss
Is screaming "Green Power!" like a garden-path boss!

[Bridge]
The Hedge-Trimmer’s buzzing a heavy metal chord
The Bird-Bath is splashing like a Viking aboard
The Snapdragons are biting the security lights
It’s the wildest of all the suburbanite nights!
“Last orders!” yells Gnorman, “The Dew is on tap!”
“Drink up your rainwater before the sun-trap!”

[Instrumental Break]
(An aggressive solo)

[Outro]
The milkman’s approaching, the dawn’s getting red
The gnomes scramble back to the strawberry bed
Gnorman’s back on his pedestal, stiff as a board
Hiding a plectrum he made from a gourd
(Whispering) The shed’s closed for cleaning... hoot hoot.

[End]

2039/7500

[intro][tuba] [Verse 1] When the owl in the ivy gives a judgmental stare And there’s a scent of fermented manure in the air Old Gnorman the Bold lets out a mighty owl hoot (He’s got a ceramic owl’s head glued onto his boot) The plastic flamingos stop guarding the porch And light up the scene with a bamboo-wick torch They drag out the mower—the old-fashioned kind Leaving a trail of crunchy snail shells behind! [Chorus] Oh, we’re banging in the shed on a Saturday night With a strobe-light made from a glow-worm in flight! The gnomes are on rhythm, the Foxgloves on bass They’re slapping their petals all over the place From the potting-soil mosh pit to the rusty tool bin When the terra-cotta rumbles, let the fun begin! [Verse 2] Barnaby Button’s the Hooter-in-Chief Playing a hollowed-out parsnip and a bay-laurel leaf He blows through a nozzle, it sounds like a train Waking the worms and the slugs in the drain The drummer’s a Squirrel on a stack of seed-trays He’s been in a nut-induced, jazz-fusion haze While the lead singer Gnorman, with a beard full of moss Is screaming "Green Power!" like a garden-path boss! [Bridge] The Hedge-Trimmer’s buzzing a heavy metal chord The Bird-Bath is splashing like a Viking aboard The Snapdragons are biting the security lights It’s the wildest of all the suburbanite nights! “Last orders!” yells Gnorman, “The Dew is on tap!” “Drink up your rainwater before the sun-trap!” [Instrumental Break] (An aggressive solo) [Chorus] Oh, we’re banging in the shed on a Saturday night With a strobe-light made from a glow-worm in flight! The gnomes are on rhythm, the Foxgloves on bass They’re slapping their petals all over the place From the potting-soil mosh pit to the rusty tool bin When the terra-cotta rumbles, let the fun begin! [Outro] The milkman’s approaching, the dawn’s getting red The gnomes scramble back to the strawberry bed Gnorman’s back on his pedestal, stiff as a board Hiding a plectrum he made from a gourd (Whispering) The shed’s closed for cleaning... hoot hoot. [End]

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