Track Insight / Lyrics
Botanist: Beneath the quiet barn, the crickets hum their tuning, a low brass.
Plant: My roots hang in the loam, listening for the rhythm of the night.
Botanist I set the Rhodes keys
like soil each touch a patient bloom
Plant: The green leaves sway like syncopated chords, waiting for the tune.
Botanist: The trills of *Gryllus campestris* answer, like marbles rolling in a hollow.
Plant: My leaves, *Quercus robur*, spread wide, absorbing the hush.
Botanist In this soft clause my fingers
pluck the ivory strings of the old piano
Plant: "Isn't" the sound like a pulse in the bedrock of the barn.
[Pre-
Botanist: The barn's timbers creak, a gentle pulse, a groove in the dark soil.
Plant: My roots pulse in sync, a quiet wave of chlorophyll and dust.
Botanist The crickets press their wings
tuning like strings of a portable op
Plant: The air, thick with earth and sweat, carries the mellow jazz of leaves.
Botanist: We sit, earth beneath us, and watch the crickets silence the night with music.
Plant: The Rhodes keys hum, a calm drip of dusk on my stem.
Botanist The rhythm of the soil below
beats steady as a metronome of hope
Plant: Don't let the barn fade, the crickets keep the song alive, patient and soft.
