The seed doesn't fall far from the tree.
landing on ground and finding a home.
it owes it to the sun. it owes it to the dirt.
it owes it to my arms for digging a hole.
thrives on the air, everything's there.
knows what to do without you.
you're just a piece, a shift in the breeze
planting yourself in your shoes...
going underground, you'll hear different sound
not the whirring around of finding a home.
grows to the sun. it grows through the dirt.
it grows into my arms for digging a hole...