Three red fruits upon a branch, A sweetness through the stone; Someone calls me from a distance, Someone will not go alone. Roots are stitching up the silence; Leaves are opening overhead. I return to hear the living, Still remembering the dead. [Chorus] The wild remembers What the stones forget: Every name beneath the bramble, Every promise, every debt. When the last bell falls silent, You will hear me singing yet. [Verse 2] Years go over like the weather; Roads grow pale and disappear. Moss takes back the broken threshold; No one calls the service here. Samson stands where evening gathers; I keep honey near the door. Some who wander find a shelter. Some are never seen once more. [Chorus] The wild remembers What the stones forget: Every name beneath the bramble, Every promise, every debt. When the last bell falls silent, You will hear me singing yet. [Bridge - tender, then unsettling] I remember being hungry. I remember being kind. I remember every doorway With a hand on the other side. Time has made a tale about me. Tales leave little room for grief. Listen closely in the branches: Something human moves beneath. [Final Chorus - full female choir] The wild remembers What the stones forget: Every name beneath the bramble, Every promise, every debt. When the last bell falls silent, You will hear me singing yet. [Outro - intimate invitation] Come in, stranger. Supper's waiting. Leave your iron at the door.
