Deep in the dirt of a Chicago street
Where the cold concrete and the jazz lines meet
A stray Hedera climbs the rusted pipe
Waiting for the city fruit to get ripe.
Buzzing in pink and a humming gold glow
Watching the midnight taxi cabs go slow
Electric Ivy in a basement breeze
Swaying along to the saxophone keys.
It drinks the salt from the wintery rain
Sucking the current from a copper vein
The diner sign flickers a bright neon blue
Painting the leaves in a chemical hue.
Buzzing in pink and a humming gold glow
Watching the midnight taxi cabs go slow
Electric Ivy in a basement breeze
Swaying along to the saxophone keys.
The Latin name is a secret it keeps
While the rest of the Windy City just sleeps
It wraps round the wires with a patient grip
Taking a slow and a steady green sip.
Rooted in oil and a thick, heavy sludge
Giving the rhythm a little green nudge
It doesn't need sun just a flicker of light
To keep the basement from feeling too tight.
A botanist watches the tendrils expand
Tracing the growth with a steady old hand
He talks to the stems in a low, quiet tone
Making this cellar a place called a home.
Buzzing in pink and a humming gold glow
Watching the midnight taxi cabs go slow
Electric Ivy in a basement breeze
Swaying along to the saxophone keys.
The jazz club is shaking the floor and the wall
The vines start to climb and they start to grow tall
They tangle the menu and the plastic chair
Breathing the smoky and midnight-blue air.
Buzzing in pink and a humming gold glow
Watching the midnight taxi cabs go slow
Electric Ivy in a basement breeze
Swaying along to the saxophone keys.
Swaying along to the keys.
Electric Ivy, bloom for me.
(Soft humming fade)
