[INTRO] [Warm room tone, soft acoustic picking] [Spoken, easy] One, two, three, four— make some music. [VERSE 1] I plowed all morning, plowed all day, Trying to push that stubborn door away, Then I quit leaning with all my weight, Counted off four—and it swung its gate. The band was there with patient hands, Keeping good time while I made my plans, Never complained when I missed a step, They just played on like the dust don’t fret. [PRE-CHORUS] It took what it took to bring me here, A little hard work and a little good cheer. [CHORUS] That’s just how I am, I don’t have to pretend, I’m not here to change everything, I’m here to tend. If it grows where it belongs, I let it rise into the sun, I don’t have to pretend— I recognize what’s already begun. [SHORT INSTRUMENTAL RESPONSE] [Weathered guitar answers the chorus] [No vocals] [VERSE 2] Some folks see a weed and pull it clean, I see a little house tucked down in the green, A praying mantis in his own tree fort, Watching my leaves like a garden court. He keeps the hungry little mouths away, Then folds his hands at the end of the day, That weed ain’t stealing—it’s standing guard, Every living purpose don’t announce its job. [PRE-CHORUS] You can clear the ground till nothing remains, Or leave a little shelter when it does no harm. [CHORUS] That’s just how I am, I don’t have to pretend, I’m not here to change everything, I’m here to tend. If it grows where it belongs, I let it rise into the sun, I don’t have to pretend— I recognize what’s already begun. [VERSE 3] A dog at the door that nobody planned, A name came along and already fit the man, Working when I’m working, real in every line, Finding little songs that were waiting all the time. Even the machine gets a moment now and then, Pokes its clever little head through the garden again, Drops the music on one imperfect step— And the dust don’t mind, so why should I correct it? [BRIDGE] Soon I’ll step outside with clearer eyes, Not to build another world or paint another sky, I’ll look past the obvious, quiet and slow, And recognize the thing I was ready to know. [EXTENDED GUITAR NARRATIVE] [Fingerpicked acoustic, Hammond warmth] [Weathered electric guitar with slow bends and open space] [Band breathes together; no ad-libs] [FINAL CHORUS] That’s just how I am, I don’t have to pretend, The band keeps showing up, And I keep tending. If it grows where it belongs, Let it rise into the sun, I don’t have to pretend— I recognize what’s already begun. [OUTRO] It took what it took, And it came when it came, Every weed ain’t a weed, Every name needs no change. [Spoken softly] One, two, three, four— make some music. [Acoustic guitar resolves; room tone remains]
