At the bottom of the garden I see you in robes of flowing stone And though I doubt your hands are holy You see through me as if I were a ghost You invite me in your favour, in high fever Entering the fold And I feel myself becoming, believing Returning from the cold I would kiss your feet if you ask Just to bask in your everlasting glow But will I still be in your favour, my saviour If I turn from this road? If I turn from this road... At the bottom of the garden I see you, the one I love the most And though I know your hands can heal me You walk through me as if you were a ghost As if you were a ghost... Nail me, nail me Nail me then let me down again I wanna hear the crowd appealing, "We love him, let him down Oh let him on down, c'mon let him down Please let him down..."