Track Insight / Lyrics
I am the towpath, grey and worn,
Watching seasons softly turn.
Reflections ripple, glass and steel,
A silent story I reveal.
*Salix babylonica* dips so low,
Kissing currents, ebb and flow.
New high-rises pierce the haze,
Lost in sun's refracted rays.
Footsteps echo, swift and free,
But the water remembers me.
Concrete and bloom, a fragile grace,
Holding history in this place.
Steel and willow, side by side,
Where the city meets the tide.
I breathe the rhythm, slow and deep,
Secrets that the towpath keep.
*Acer platanoides* shades the stone,
Roots entwined, a life well known.
Bicycles glide, a fleeting scene,
Lost in thoughts of what has been.
I feel the weight of passing years,
Absorbing joy, absorbing tears.
Concrete and bloom, a fragile grace,
Holding history in this place.
Steel and willow, side by side,
Where the city meets the tide.
I breathe the rhythm, slow and deep,
Secrets that the towpath keep.
The canal reflects the neon gleam,
A modern, manufactured dream.
Ducks drift by, a peaceful sight,
Bathed in artificial light.
I've seen the barges come and go,
Stories whispered, soft and low.
*Typha latifolia* stands so tall,
Witnessing the rise and fall.
Of ambition, hope, and need,
Planted like a hopeful seed.
This liquid mirror, dark and bright,
Holds the city in its light.
Lovers stroll, hand in hand,
Across this ever-changing land.
Children laugh, their voices clear,
Washing away all doubt and fear.
I am the path beneath their feet,
A grounding pulse, bittersweet.
Concrete and bloom, a fragile grace,
Holding history in this place.
Steel and willow, side by side,
Where the city meets the tide.
I breathe the rhythm, slow and deep,
Secrets that the towpath keep.
The moon descends, a silver hue,
Painting shadows, fresh and new.
The city sleeps, a quiet sigh,
As stars ignite across the sky.
I watch and wait, serene and still,
A silent guardian of the mill.
Concrete and bloom, a fragile grace,
Holding history in this place.
Steel and willow, side by side,
Where the city meets the tide.
I breathe the rhythm, slow and deep,
Secrets that the towpath keep.
I am the towpath, grey and old,
A story waiting to unfold.
A silent witness, strong and true,
Forever watching over you.
