Seeds No.2

from Seeds (B-Sides) by Ryland Bouchard

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lyrics

The humble own, the least know
the wait begins, with partial needs

Don't worry down those boring days
Growing pain on thoughtless plains
The apple sour, the dark sails,
the seeds sweep on their own weeds

My cherry home, the red road, the bugs breed on their own deeds

Wither weep down so deep
Wither seek around my knees

There's no known place to go where all man's weeds will grow
There's no known place to go where all man's weeds will grow