Lily of the Valley

I'm on a cusp of knowing I'm the tool I like to plan my outings with ruthless rules The clock will strike and I'll be in my room I'd rather be in my garden south of here 'Cause I have a friend, she is someone I hold dear I see her once a year 'Cause when my face is red I'm only good to cry And when I'm hurting her I can't tell black from white When I leave my house to the garden North of here I will trust you with the flowers I grew Over the years And I promise they will grow on you too 'Cause when my face is red I'm only good to cry And when I'm hurting her I can't tell black from white 'Cause when my face is red I'm only good to cry And when I'm hurting I can't tell black from white