Morning fog lifts off the asphalt river
Taxus baccata shadows stretch and shiver
Quarter drops into the rusted metal cup
Quercus roots drink deep where rubber meets
You toll the bridge where wild things grow
Latin names in winds that blow
No commuter sees your green domain
Just headlights cutting through the rain
Afternoon sun warms the booth's cracked vinyl
Hedera helix climbs the final mile
Driver hands you crumpled paper bills
Silence grows between the rolling hills
You toll the bridge where wild things grow
Latin names in winds that blow
No commuter sees your green domain
Just headlights cutting through the rain
Evening brings the rush of metal beetles
Sambucus flowers shed their fragrant petals
You speak each genus species to the vine
While taillights paint the gravel path like wine
You toll the bridge where wild things grow
Latin names in winds that blow
No commuter sees your green domain
Just headlights cutting through the rain
Concrete cracks where seedlings push through
You know each root and shoot and dew
No badge no uniform just soil and sky
The workshop roof keeps seasons dry
Night settles deep on toll and tendril
Moonlight writes in silver on the pencil
You log the count in dirt-stained notebook pages
Taxodium distichum guards the ages
You toll the bridge where wild things grow
Latin names in winds that blow
No commuter sees your green domain
Just headlights cutting through the rain
You toll the bridge where wild things grow
Latin names in winds that blow
Ferns unfurl where coins fall slow
Taxus baccata watches you go
