Knotweed

[Chorus]
It's 3:47, Mum, Rye Lane's sleeping
But something's cracking the concrete, I can feel the roots creeping
They call us knotweed, invasive, something you can't kill
Said "one day this'll all be yours"— yeah, I think it will.

[Verse 1]
Uh... sorry. It's Klexa. Just— listen, I was on the 343 bus
Saw the new build flats, all tinted glass and cold hubris
Remember Mr. Henderson, flat sixty-two, the one with the cough?
They offered him a grand to move, sent the bailiffs to see him off
And the air-con units hum a new concrete lullaby
But the buddleia's still growing from the walkway in the sky
Scaffolding's got a pulse, I felt it through my trainers, a low thrum
I know you said "be patient, ọmọ mi, your time go come."

[Chorus]
It's 3:47, Mum, Rye Lane's sleeping
But something's cracking the concrete, I can feel the roots creeping
They call us knotweed, invasive, something you can't kill
Said "one day this'll all be yours"— yeah, I think it will.

[Verse 2]
Anyway, that's not— look, that producer from the Heath
He played the cello loop, the one with the grit beneath
He said it sounds like brick dust, like the city's own breath
Like something digging out the rubble, life defying death
He didn't get it, not really, that's the sound of your two shifts
The nylon on your cleaner's tabard, all your missed birthdays as gifts
Paid me two hundred quid, I put it straight on the leccy
I told you we'd be good, Mum, just... just text me.

[Chorus]
It's 3:47, Mum, Rye Lane's sleeping
But something's cracking the concrete, I can feel the roots creeping
They call us knotweed, invasive, something you can't kill
Said "one day this'll all be yours"— yeah, I think it will.

[Outro]
Alright... I'm rambling. Call me when you get this. Love you.
(sound of a voicemail ending abruptly)