I am searching for what I thought I found in your compassion
I am searching for what I thought I found in your love
I am searching for what I thought I found in your soul
I am searching for the Lily of the valley
Walking over sorrel, didn't even notice it was there
grazed by vetch, clovers of white, saffron and Scarlett pimpernel,
the orchids of my primrose blend in with the air
but they rot at my meadow sweet and all the thorns of which I'm constantly aware
I am searching for what I thought I found in your presence
I am searching for what I thought I had in your shadow
I am searching for all that I lost when you left
I am searching for the Lily of the valley
Cause by my Indian jasmine, or is it from Carolina
an abulon fell on the aloe, growing on dying hawthorn; a grapevine of
pencil leaf geranium, lavender gained in my actions
moss grew near a pink rose but there weren't any other flowers
I am searching for what can only be found in my compassion
I am searching for what can only be found in my love
I am searching for what what can only be found in my soul
I am searching for the Lily of the valley
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