Lyric

I left my name

On a folded page

By the foxglove gate

Where the fern fronds sway

The bottle tipped

And the dark drew near

Then the black-blue words

Started climbing here

Up the margin line

Past the tidy fold

Through the paper grain

Green and gold

Every line I wrote

Found a root to keep

Now the quiet page

Won't let me sleep

Ink turns into ivy

Climb up, climb up

Ink turns into ivy

Wrap my little heart

Ink turns into ivy

Soft on the stone

Ink turns into ivy

And the page grows home

In the window pane

There is moonlit moss

And a silver key

I was told was lost

Now it turns in my palm

Like a hidden seed

Every careful word

Becomes what I need

The tea goes cold

In the china cup

But the garden line

Keeps threading up

Up the margin line

Past the tidy fold

Through the paper grain

Green and gold

Every line I wrote

Found a root to keep

Now the quiet page

Won't let me sleep

Ink turns into ivy

Climb up, climb up

Ink turns into ivy

Wrap my little heart

Ink turns into ivy

Soft on the stone

Ink turns into ivy

And the page grows home

Let the old spell stay

In the book of me

Let the thorned green curl

Where it ought to be

I was just a hand

Now I'm part of the vine

Holding what I made

In a slower time

Ink turns into ivy

Climb up, climb up

Ink turns into ivy

Wrap my little heart

Ink turns into ivy

Soft on the stone

Ink turns into ivy

And the page grows home

Ink turns into ivy

Ink turns into ivy

And I'm not alone