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The Acorn

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The Acorn

Cumin

I been trading precious stones for your safe haven.
The more and more that I shoulder, let it come.
It makes the feast much richer.
All in all, you're open; so I let it go.

Cuz I been hard, and I been patient.
On your shores, there's something ancient.
I recognize your accent; I anchor to your drawl: Petra or Gaza?
And I let it go. Holding on.

I always been your rhythm: a ragged pulse to your electric slide.
The more and more that I follow, the more I let it go.
let it go.