Don't Prune The Basil

[Verse 1]
Hey. It's… the kitchen light's humming over your basil.
It's three seventeen on a Tuesday in Hampden.
It's growing all wild on the dusty sill,
a green little problem you left when you ran then.
I know I should pinch back the leaves at the node,
stop it from bolting, from turning to seed.

[Chorus]
But don't make me prune the basil,
don't make me cut you back to the stem.
'Cause every new leaf is a ghost in this quiet apartment,
and I'm not strong enough to get rid of them.

[Verse 2]
The brick outside is that deep, humid red
from the afternoon rain, smells like summer and worms.
"Just a little water," you said, from my bed,
"and make sure it gets what it earns."
Now the dust on the leaves catches the glow from my phone,
another root pushing through cracks all alone.

[Chorus]
So don't make me prune the basil,
don't make me cut you back to the stem.
'Cause every new leaf is a ghost in this quiet apartment,
and I'm not strong enough to get rid of them.

[Bridge]
(Percussion and vocal only, rhythmic, tense)
Look— I know it's a plant.
I know it's just soil from the Waverly Ace.
But you chose it.
You left it.
And it's still breathing in your place.

[Outro]
The machine's gonna cut me off now.
...Anyway.