You park the rig by the rusted gate
The heavy diesel engine feels like weight
The asphalt cracks under the summer glare
A scent of damp earth fills the heavy air
You see the Bryum moss upon the wall
Where iron girders start to lean and fall
The Latin names drift through your tired mind
The kind of peace a trucker needs to find
Watch the green concrete start to grow
Where the wild clover rhythms flow
Rooted deep in the industrial gray
Taking back the city day by day
You touch the leaf of a stray forest weed
The broken pavement gives the root a seed
A slow invasion of the emerald vine
Crossing over every painted line
Watch the green concrete start to grow
Where the wild clover rhythms flow
Rooted deep in the industrial gray
Taking back the city day by day
Wait for the sap to rise inside the stem
A hidden jewel, a botanical gem
Patience is found in the dirt and the loam
Making a ruin a welcoming home
The headlights flicker on the velvet skin
Where the old factory walls are wearing thin
You breathe the oxygen the leaflets give
Watching the dormant urban garden live
You shift the gear and leave the site behind
With images of clover in your mind
The road is long but the soil is a map
Closing the distance in a leafy gap
Watch the green concrete start to grow
Where the wild clover rhythms flow
Rooted deep in the industrial gray
Taking back the city day by day
Green concrete, slow beat.
Green concrete, slow beat.
