Track Insight / Lyrics
She found the tape beneath the rosemary
Its handwritten summer smelled like rain
She pruned the foxglove, sage, and rue
And every bare root answered with its name
[Pre-
No one can label where the old years went
The rain still counts each silver drop it took
The thistle holds a summer in its thorn
The soil remembers every buried track
Someone played Mix Nineteen Ninety-Seven
Beneath the porch, the dusk turned copper-red
The label peeled where a hopeful thumb had been
And bare feet stamped where marigolds were spread
A thrush tapped time against the western rail
The magnolia leaned beyond the kitchen tile
Ipomoea climbed the rusted water pipe
And every empty seedpod opened wide
[Pre-
No one can label where the old years went
The rain still counts each silver drop it took
The thistle holds a summer in its thorn
The soil remembers every buried track
They raised Mix Nineteen Ninety-Seven
The porch lamp ripened till the roses fell
A thumb had worn the label's blue edge
While old regrets rolled gently down the shell
Dust lay softly on the cassette case
A hydrangea bloomed beside her folded chair
Distant thunder worried the Virginia creeper
Then sun poured honey through the upstairs square
Neighbors gathered, still their shadows long
They brought bad poems, seeds, and pumpkin pie
The eucalyptus shook its silver palm
While thirty-seven summer plans slipped by
Later, silver tape went brittle on the shelf
She found green moss where sunlight used to fall
The bamboo stirred beside the garden shed
And every faded chord still called them all
The children played Mix Nineteen Ninety-Seven
Beneath the wash, the dusk turned copper-red
The label peeled where a hopeful thumb had been
Their bare feet stamped where marigolds were spread
The player clicked, the gravel road rang clear
The hydrangeas bowed their purple heads
A single echo crossed the evening air
Then found the patient earth instead
One strand of basil stirred beside the door
Like someone lingering after four
