My Garden Was A Roadside Paradise

My garden was a roadside paradise a picture-perfect postcard-prairie my garden was a slice of my personality always trying to be, at its, very best. But my lovely garden isn't love-blessed sadly there's a cuckoo perched on my breast who's decided I should be dispossessed now bindweed does its best to be caressed but I can always make another garden all I need is some dirt with a bit of sweetness; all I need is a spade, sharpen I can't be too disheartened my love. Every garden starts from a dustbowl it just needs caring-for someone to cajole.