The landscape’s wrinkles are starting to show 
I planted, I toiled, I hoped you could grow 
But you won’t change 
I had a thought 
It starts with you and me getting away 
Because our lives fell through what I prayed the earth could contain  [bad word] aground against a stone dislodged by a sea that seeped 
In after a city upon a hill embraced a song sight unseen 
This place isn’t all it promised me it could be 
These are dichotomies 

I could’ve never reckoned with 
The wrinkles in my landscape are starting to show 
And I guess I’m beginning to grow 
Outward and inward the grasses and trees fashion a new body to venture on 
I had a thought, and it was [bad word] 
I’d say that thought still suits me fine most times when 
I find myself digging through life one note at a time 
If the soil is to be found inside then 
I’ll be the first to unearth and grow my source of light