The glass city glows in a sterile white
A bleached out desert in the midday light
I plant my seeds in a plastic tray
While the chrome towers steal the gold away
I call my ferns by their Latin name
In a cold world where every block is the same
My soil is dark and my patience is deep
While the digital spirits are falling asleep
Look at the crimson conduit flow
Where the red pipes make the skyline glow
Cutting the white with a scarlet vein
Screaming out loud in a sterile rain
You watch the grid from a high floor view
Where the air is filtered and the grey is new
You see the rust on the iron beam
A sudden break in a polished dream
Look at the crimson conduit flow
Where the red pipes make the skyline glow
Cutting the white with a scarlet vein
Screaming out loud in a sterile rain
The root of the ivy will find a way
To break through the cement and seize the day
One red pipe leaking a rusty stream
Waking us up from a frozen scheme
I trim the leaves of a dying vine
Wait for the sun and the stars to align
You track the pulse of the copper wire
Feeding the heat of a hidden fire
We meet on the roof where the air is thin
Where the red paint ends and the clouds begin
Two lonely souls in a polished cage
Writing a story on a sterile page
Look at the crimson conduit flow
Where the red pipes make the skyline glow
Cutting the white with a scarlet vein
Screaming out loud in a sterile rain
Red lines, white walls
Crimson conduit calls
Red lines, white walls
