Saggitaria grows in the silt
Where the heavy summer heat is spilt
I hold the brass key in my palm
While the bayou settles in a calm
Taxodium roots dive deep and low
Watching how the muddy waters flow
I count the steps on the porch tonight
Waiting for the coming of the light
I have a key but I have no door
Walking on this weathered cedar floor
One step left and then I turn around
Searching for the lock that can't be found
Ludwigia paints the shoreline red
While the sleepy crawfish find their bed
You count the beats of the distant drum
Waiting for the evening mist to come
I have a key but I have no door
Walking on this weathered cedar floor
One step left and then I turn around
Searching for the lock that can't be found
The metal is cold and the air is thick
The clock on the wall gives a steady tick
We are the seeds that the wind forgot
Tied to a place in a lonely plot
The moss hangs down like a velvet lace
Hiding every corner of this place
I feel the soil beneath my bare feet
Where the salt and the river water meet
Southeastern winds bring a scent of pine
Tracing out a long and crooked line
The brass key glows in the purple haze
Lost inside a slow and humid maze
I have a key but I have no door
Walking on this weathered cedar floor
One step left and then I turn around
Searching for the lock that can't be found
The lock is gone and the door is wide
With the rising water and the tide
Counting steps on the wood
Counting steps where we stood
