Cold salt air on the wooden pier
Silver fog makes the shoreline clear
Found a can by the oily tide
Where the little green mosses hide
Rusty metal bloom in the gray
Waiting for the light of the day
Iron skin with a copper stain
Drinking up the San Francisco rain
Sedges lean in the heavy breeze
Salty wind shakes the cypress trees
Latin names for the coastal weed
Patient soil is the only need
Rusty metal bloom in the gray
Waiting for the light of the day
Iron skin with a copper stain
Drinking up the San Francisco rain
Oxide red on a handle bent
Tangled wires where the cable went
I can hear what the clover says
In the haze of these foggy days
Rusty metal bloom in the gray
Waiting for the light of the day
Iron skin with a copper stain
Drinking up the San Francisco rain
Slowly breathing in the brine
Twisted metal, ancient line
Water sleeps in a hollow shell
Ringing out like a silent bell
Put my hand on the frozen rim
While the distant city lights grow dim
I will plant a new seed in the rust
Turning iron back into dust
Rusty metal bloom in the gray
Waiting for the light of the day
Iron skin with a copper stain
Drinking up the San Francisco rain
Just a little bit of water.
Let it grow.
Let it grow.