Meter running on a road that doesn't show
Fare is silence where the cold winds blow
I dropped a passenger at the zone's edge line
He paid in rads and said the air was fine
In the Geiger garden where the mist hangs low
Green shoots pushing through the radioactive glow
Old bridge humming with a quiet song
Two voices rising where the night belongs
Glass panes rattling in the morning draft
Tomatoes ripening on a graphite shaft
I hum a tune the dosimeter keeps
While the reactor sleeps and the river weeps
Wipers dancing on a cracked windshield
Stories buried in the fallout field
My passenger sings where the concrete cracks
He trades his Geiger for a bag of snacks
In the Geiger garden where the mist hangs low
Green shoots pushing through the radioactive glow
Old bridge humming with a quiet song
Two voices rising where the night belongs
The meter ticks like a heartbeat slow
The seedlings drink from a heavy flow
No fare collected at the journey's end
Just flowers blooming round the river bend
Mist clings heavy on the greenhouse roof
Living proof of a different proof
I pack my basket with the glowing yield
The bridge sings soft where the dust is sealed
In the Geiger garden where the mist hangs low
Green shoots pushing through the radioactive glow
Old bridge humming with a quiet song
Two voices rising where the night belongs
Two voices humming where the wild winds blow
Geiger garden where the green things grow
