Title: Don’t Follow the Singing [Verse 1] There’s a sound past the garden gate, Soft and thin and running late, Like a tune that forgot its name, Still it calls you all the same. It hums low where the long grass bends, Where the path never really ends, If you hear it, don’t go near, It gets louder when you hear. [Pre-Chorus] Don’t say it, Don’t hum it back, Some songs don’t Know the way back. Don’t hold it, Don’t let it stay, It learns your voice If you try to play. [Chorus] Don’t follow the singing, It isn’t for you, It knows how to sound Like something you knew. It bends like a memory, Sweet at the start, Then pulls like a thread From inside your heart. Don’t follow the singing, Stay where you are, Some things that call Don’t come from far. They sit in the quiet, They wait in the thin, They don’t need a door To find their way in. [Verse 2] There was a boy who went to see Where the soft tune used to be, He stepped out past the broken fence, Past the place that made no sense. In the morning, shoes were found, Turned the wrong way on the ground, No small voice and no small feet, Just the echo of the beat. [Pre-Chorus] Don’t name it, Don’t make it real, Some things grow When you let them feel. Don’t trace it, Don’t look too long, It gets inside The shape of song. [Chorus] Don’t follow the singing, It isn’t for you, It knows how to sound Like something you knew. It bends like a memory, Sweet at the start, Then pulls like a thread From inside your heart. Don’t follow the singing, Stay where you are, Some things that call Don’t come from far. They sit in the quiet, They wait in the thin, They don’t need a door To find their way in. [Bridge] If it sounds like your name, Let it pass, let it pass, If it sounds like a game, Let it pass, let it pass. If it sings from the dark, Don’t be brave, don’t be kind, Some things only want To be followed blind. [Final Chorus] Don’t follow the singing, It’s already near, It hums in the walls Where the house starts to hear. It softens the edges, It smooths out the air, Then leaves something missing That used to be there. Don’t follow the singing, Stay small, stay still, Not everything quiet Is gentle or still. Some songs don’t end, They just move along, And take something warm When they carry their song. [Outro] There’s a sound past the garden gate, Soft and thin and running late, If you hear it, Let it go. Some things sing So they can grow.
