The city sleeps... but the roots are awake
Concrete jungle, cold and gray
I lost my soul along the way
The neon signs have burned my eyes
Beneath the black and silent skies
Follow the spores, follow the light
Into the forest of the night
The forest spirits know your name
They'll wash away the city's shame
The mushroom caps are glowing red
They speak to voices in my head
"Come drift away on mycelium streams
And wake up from your concrete dreams"
We are the lost... we are the found...
The roots are deep... the sound... the sound...
Back to the earth...
Back to the green...
The city is gone...
The spirits are seen...
Back to the green
© Copyright: Андрей Шишкин 5, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126092704505
Свидетельство о публикации №126092704505
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