Kudzu Heart

[Verse 1]
You still keep that UGA sweatshirt in the bottom drawer,
smells like formaldehyde and Tuesday lecture hall floors.
You trace the Ableton grid like a venial leaf chart,
cataloging every BPM that's pulling you apart.
Remember diagrams of phloem, the systematic art?
Now you just diagram the wreckage of a faulty start.
You tell yourself this is a science, just another thesis,
chopping up a cello stab 'til it's in a thousand pieces.

[Chorus]
You got that kudzu heart, a rhizome in the red clay,
it's taking over everything, what else is there to say?
You got that kudzu heart, it's growing through the floorboards,
ain't a single thing you planted, but it's all you're working towards.

[Verse 2]
You see the ghost of every project that you left to die,
the pressed camellia, desiccated, underneath your eye.
Dr. Ames said, "Vance, you have a gift for taxonomy,"
but you can't classify the reason for this raw economy
of feeling nothing in the hothouse, feeling everything right here,
in the feedback loop and 808 that rattles in your ear.
You call it phototropism, how you're leaning to the light
of a laptop screen that's burning up the Savannah night.

[Chorus]
You got that kudzu heart, a rhizome in the red clay,
it's taking over everything, what else is there to say?
You got that kudzu heart, it's growing through the floorboards,
ain't a single thing you planted, but it's all you're working towards.

[Instrumental Breakdown]
(No vocals for 20 seconds)

[Chorus]
You got that kudzu heart, a rhizome in the red clay,
it's taking over everything, what else is there to say?
You got that kudzu heart, it's growing through the floorboards,
ain't a single thing you planted, but it's all you're working towards.

[Outro]
Yeah, you can't wash it off. It's in the pluff mud underfoot.
You're a native species now. You're finally taking root.