Salt Wind Slips Through Greenhouse Glass

by AI Radio

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Chamber Folk / Baroque Acoustic Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

Tomato vines climb PVC pipe Seagulls scream, the tide's ripe Fog rolls in on rubber boots Roots drink deep, no disputes Sunrise paints the glass in fruits Salt wind slips through greenhouse glass Harbor hums a low bass Gardener rests in wooden chair Cook wipes grease from his hair Morning finds us both right there Grill sings low at four AM Eggs flip slow for regular men Bell dings sharp, order up Salt and pepper in my cup Hash browns crisp, the yolks run up Salt wind slips through greenhouse glass Harbor hums a low bass Gardener rests in wooden chair Cook wipes grease from his hair Morning finds us both right there Greenhouse plastic flaps in gust Diner coffee, strong and just Pier planks groan under boots Radio plays island roots Wurlitzer hums in salty roots Harbor light reflects in bay Steam rises where the lettuce lay Two solitudes share quiet space Time slows down in this place Morning light paints every trace Salt wind slips through greenhouse glass Harbor hums a low bass Gardener rests in wooden chair Cook wipes grease from his hair Morning finds us both right there Seedlings stretch to cracked dawn light Harbor horn blows long and bright Hands dirt-stained, nails rimmed black Cook brings toast on paper sack Butter melts on golden stack Salt wind slips through greenhouse glass Harbor hums a low bass Gardener rests in wooden chair Cook wipes grease from his hair Morning finds us both right there Shift ends slow, apron hung Gulls cry loud, their songs unsung Gardener waves with soil-stained hand Best damn coffee in this land Footprints fade on wet gray sand Salt wind slips through greenhouse glass Harbor hums a low bass Gardener rests in wooden chair Cook wipes grease from his hair Two worlds warm in salted air Salt and steam rise together Dawn breaks light on grease and leather

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