Broken Flowers

If I was a lighthouse keeper, all the cormorants would call your name
I would be a lotus eater, watching all the hugs at baggage claim

Plant a seed and give it water
Light a candle on the altar

Down by the riverbed, the dirty water flows
This is where the broken flowers grow
Up on the barrelhead, the money comes and goes
This is where the broken flowers grow

There’s a princess in the garden turning all the lepers into frogs
All the Persians and the Spartans built an airport out of Lincoln logs

Place a nickel on the train tracks
Set a low bar for the climax

There is quicksand in the ceiling
The floor has got that sinking feeling

Flyin’ down the avenue, a murder of black crows
This is where the broken flowers grow
I will come to you at your lowest low
Over where the broken flowers grow