Song Cover Image

The Earth Called It Borrowing πŸŒΏπŸ’€

+ Show full styles
V5.5

FOUR SEASONS I. Spring [Distant raven. Soft wind through bare branches. Wet soil. Deep earth rumble.] The earth splits open. Like an old lip cracked by winter. From the black saliva of clay, blind roots emerge. A newborn cries with a mouth still full of blood. [First birdsong. Dripping water.] The mother smells of milk, of sweat, of damp straw. No one remembers their first breath. Only the wound that opened the door. --- II. Summer [Cicadas. Bees. Wind through tall grass. Leaves rustling.] Flesh ripens faster than apples. The sun dries the sweat from our backs. Fingernails grow. Hair grows. Weeds grow. [Distant thunder rolling.] Beneath the skin, bone slowly sharpens itself. Every kiss tastes of salt. Every body is already learning to decay. We built our cities higher than trees. Yet the roots kept growing beneath them. --- Chorus [Deep forest drone. Slow heartbeat. Wind rising.] There is no end. Only becoming. Bone returns to stone. Blood returns to rivers. Breath returns to the wind. A name returns to silence. We called it ownership. The earth called it borrowing. --- III. Autumn [Falling leaves. Crows. Mushrooms breaking through wet soil.] Leaves do not fall. They return. Worms open the earth more gently than any spade. Grzyby rise from everything we failed to keep. [Branches creaking. Fox calling in the distance.] Our faces wrinkle the way tree bark does. The forest never mourns. It only remembers. Even the rain now tastes a little like us. --- IV. Winter [Snowstorm. Frozen branches cracking. Distant wolf howl. Silence.] Snow does not hide death. Snow protects decay. Beneath the white, the warmth of bacteria works with endless patience. [Ice melting drop by drop.] Bones soften inside the memory of the earth. We buried forests beneath concrete. Yet the moss found its way home. [Roots slowly breaking stone.] In spring, grass will grow through our ribs. And no one will know whether it carries the scent of life, or of death. The earth never asked who deserved to bloom. [Long wind. Raven. One final drop of water. Silence.]