Polite Overgrowth

[Verse 1]
The Cadillac Place seal is worn smooth on the floor.
I got my brother's school files from the bottom drawer.
The air tastes like wet wool and Tuesday's defeat,
And the hum from the lights is the only real beat.
I watch your hands tapping that keyboard so slow,
A killing frost waiting for something to grow.

[Chorus]
Don't you talk about patience
When you're holding the keys.
You call this a garden,
I call it weeds.

[Verse 2]
Your smile is a thin line of polished veneer.
You look at the paperwork like I'm not even here.
I say, "He's a good kid," my voice low and tight,
"Just needs a classroom that gets some real light."
You offer a pamphlet, a practiced reply,
With a look that could make every green thing die.

[Chorus]
Don't you talk about patience
When you're holding the keys.
You call this a garden,
I call it weeds.

[Bridge]
They tell you to pull yourself up by the root,
But first you gotta fight for the soil and the fruit.

[Chorus]
(Key Change)
Don't you talk about patience
When you're holding the keys!
You call this a garden,
I call this my seed!

[Outro]
I'll be polite.
But I won't ever leave.