I keep the ferns in a steady row
Watch how the slow steady rootlets grow
I name them all by their Latin grace
Within this quiet and humid space
But past the glass where the washers spin
The heavy grey of the storm rolls in
A rusted can by the alley wall
Waiting for one final summer call
Oh iron skin turning red as rust
Sinking deep in the city dust
Water the seeds in the concrete crack
Bringing the green of the garden back
The oxidizing of metal skin
Where the cold winter rain seeps in
He stands alone by the laundry light
Holding the ghost of a garden night
Oh iron skin turning red as rust
Sinking deep in the city dust
Water the seeds in the concrete crack
Bringing the green of the garden back
Patience is found in the heavy loam
Making a place for the wild to roam
Wait for the bloom in the salty air
Finding a spark in a deep despair
The water drips from a broken rim
The light of the morning is pale and dim
But in the mud there is something new
A tiny leaf of a vivid hue
I bring the peat and the organic blend
To help the broken and rusted mend
A steady hand for the metal shell
Where the small hidden blossoms dwell
Oh iron skin turning red as rust
Sinking deep in the city dust
Water the seeds in the concrete crack
Bringing the green of the garden back
Iron and soil
Iron and soil
Sinking deep
Sinking deep
