Sapling Year

[Verse 1]
The chainlink by the Union Pacific tracks had a hole just big enough.
We'd slip through after supper, when the April ground was rough.
You carried the sapling in a coffee can, black dirt staining the tin,
Said, "'Samo malo,' keep the roots down, let the city breathe it in."

[Chorus]
And we were drawing foundation lines for a house we'd never build,
A little patch of future on a promise unfulfilled.
It was a sapling year, a quiet claim staked against the rust,
Turning Bevo Mill clay back from dust to dust.

[Verse 2]
I walked by there last Tuesday, past the half-poured concrete forms.
They're putting up some condos to weather out the coming storms.
I tasted diesel on the humid air, heard the nail-gun's metal spit,
And I looked for our spot, but there was nothing left of it.

[Chorus]
And we were drawing foundation lines for a house we'd never build,
A little patch of future on a promise unfulfilled.
It was a sapling year, a quiet claim staked against the rust,
Turning Bevo Mill clay back from dust to dust.

[Bridge]
This morning, the dzezva boiled over, left a bitter, muddy stain.
It looked like the map you drew of home on a fogged-up window pane.
A country underwater, a garden paved in gray.

[Chorus]
And we were drawing foundation lines for a house we'd never build,
A different kind of future on a promise that's been filled.
It was a sapling year, a quiet hope, a claim against the rust,
You were teaching me a language made of dust.

[Outro]
Yeah, a language made of dust.