Track Insight / Lyrics
Saguaro skin and heavy loam,
The cypress knees have found a home.
The pedal spins a steady beat,
Above the humid summer heat.
Taxodium grows deep and wide,
Where secret water currents glide.
I watch the porch of weathered pine,
A steady hand, a thin straight line.
Golden hour turns into gray,
Watching all the light fade away.
Waiting for the wheel to spin slow,
Where the heavy bayou waters flow.
The soil is rich and dark as ink,
I stand right on the river brink.
The spoke and chain are humming low,
While velvet moss begins to glow.
Golden hour turns into gray,
Watching all the light fade away.
Waiting for the wheel to spin slow,
Where the heavy bayou waters flow.
Root and stem and rusted gear,
The evening air is sharp and clear.
One long breath before the night,
Holding on to silver light.
Sarracenia traps the breeze,
The wind is shaking willow trees.
The porch is still the only place,
To find a quiet open space.
Salty air and river clay,
The colors of the dying day.
A lonely bike and wooden floor,
I keep the watch beside the door.
Golden hour turns into gray,
Watching all the light fade away.
Waiting for the wheel to spin slow,
Where the heavy bayou waters flow.
Deep in the loam.
The bayou is home.
Hold the line.
