Red paint peels off the metal skin
Where the wild clover rushes in
Tucked behind the old wood shed
Where the garden beds are dead
Heavy vines climb up the wall
Waiting for the leaves to fall
Tension pulls the morning tight
Racing toward the early light
Oh the rusty can stays still
Bending to the winter chill
Hiding in the overgrown
Waiting in the dirt alone
Silver spiders weave a net
In a place the sun forgets
Bowed by weight of heavy dew
Turning grey and turning blue
Heavy vines climb up the wall
Waiting for the leaves to fall
Tension pulls the morning tight
Racing toward the early light
Oh the rusty can stays still
Bending to the winter chill
Hiding in the overgrown
Waiting in the dirt alone
Iron handle snapped in two
Cold as ice and sharp and new
Sinking deep in velvet moss
Counting every summer loss
Shatter the glass of a broken frame
Call out a long forgotten name
Run through the brush with a heavy lens
Where the wilder garden ends
Oh the rusty can stays still
Bending to the winter chill
Hiding in the overgrown
Waiting in the dirt alone
Copper stains the muddy ground
Not a single living sound
Crouched beneath a maple leaf
Holding on to quiet grief
Oh the rusty can stays still
Bending to the winter chill
Hiding in the overgrown
Waiting in the dirt alone
Waiting in the dirt alone
Just a rusty can of stone
(Foot stomp fade)
