You step off the ferry dock
The rusted hinges start to lock
You walk through the salted air
While wild vines tangle in your hair
Concrete clover in the gray
Where the ghost films used to play
Sown in cracks of broken stone
You are walking here alone
The screen is a skeletal frame
The wind calls a forgotten name
You trace every jagged line
Like a creeping ivy vine
Concrete clover in the gray
Where the ghost films used to play
Sown in cracks of broken stone
You are walking here alone
Trifolium repens takes hold
Turning asphalt into gold
You kneel in the oily silt
Where the old projection tilted
Concrete clover in the gray
Where the ghost films used to play
Sown in cracks of broken stone
You are walking here alone
Deep in the loam and the clay
The memories wither away
Patiently waiting to bloom
Inside this abandoned room
You find a ticket in the mud
A tiny spark, a dormant bud
The soil is heavy and black
There is no way to go back
Concrete clover in the gray
Where the ghost films used to play
Sown in cracks of broken stone
You are walking here alone
Let it grow, let it stay
Wash the salt spray away
