[Instrumental emotional sad long intro] [Verse 1] Wake at 3:14, moonlight on the sink Cold coffee on the counter, my hands still a little weak Watched the cedar line hold the dark through a busted window pane Down by the jetties, every shadow moving like it knew my name Damp cedar in the air, but the hurt still sits You can bandage skin, not the ache beneath it Heard your voice in the tide pools, in the buzz of a moth Salal on the low end, still pushing through the rust [Chorus] Mother Nature, don’t let go Under all this wire, we’re still flesh and stone If the sky goes black and the firs all bend Pull me back through the hush, pull me back again [instrumental solo] [Verse 2] A fox at the curb like it owns the whole block Past a produce stand steaming in the cold and a busted street clock Kids with frost on their cuffs and jackets from the thrift Breathing white through the drizzle, trying not to let it show too much The sea air tastes like salt, the dune grass sways Gray clouds hanging low like they missed the day Early winter on the gutters, wet leaves stuck to the glow There’s roots in the cracks where the moss keeps growing slow [Chorus] Mother Nature, don’t let go Under all this wire, we’re still flesh and stone If the sky goes black and the firs all bend Pull me back through the hush, pull me back again [instrumental solo] [Verse 3] I saw a rooftop garden past the chain-link gate One tomato vine, two chairs, and a dented watering can Somebody still tending what the block forgot Still growing something honest in a place that sold it off So I stood there quiet with the buzz around Letting the engine die, letting in the ground For one small breath the whole hard world let go And I remembered I was made from rain and loam [Bridge] If the grid cuts out, if the sirens start Stay where I can find you, close enough to hear your heart I’m tired of acting like I don’t need shade Tired of sleeping with the screen still awake If you reach for me, I’ll reach back, no pride No crowd, no signal, just the creek beside Let me be small enough to be held Let me come back to something I can smell [Chorus] Mother Nature, don’t let go Under all this wire, we’re still flesh and stone If the sky goes black and the firs all bend Pull me back through the hush, pull me back again [instrumental solo] [Verse 4] Morning comes hard on the back fence line Sun on the dew, same old sign And I’m still here, still half gone, half awake Trying to learn what the body can take So if the city wants names, let it take the fake I’m keeping one small pulse it can’t replace When the credit runs out and the metal grows cold Maybe the oldest thing wins: roots in the road [Instrumental long ending] [Outro] Ma, if the tide comes up, leave the porch light on I’ll be back down the road by the cedar and the jetties at dawn Keep the screen door loose, let the salt air in I just need the firs, the creek, and your voice again [Instrumental long ending] [End]
