There's a river that parts the valley of this town,
following the road up to your father's farm
Your rosy lungs were empty on the day that you were born
And no one thought you'd make it past the morning
Hold...
Your brother said your mother was a firefly you buried in the earth
And every night the firelight warms the tender bits of skin beneath your shirt
The climbing constellations move in semitones
And sit behind the county line in the melody of gravitation
Hold...
Calling on the colors of the road
Sleep amongst the mango trees, poisoned toads
A flood for every footprint, for every mile that you forgot
Though your hands were little, they always gave a lot
Hold your breath...
The sanctity of soil
Wandering roots and living oils
Unions underground,
Sunlight's surfacing,
and all around, mountains like diaphragms
The rhythms of a landscape that is breathing
Hold your breath...