Tarot · Track 70 · middle
Seven of Pentacles
RWS: a young farmer leaning both hands on his hoe, head down, looking at seven pentacles hanging in the leaves of a bush he grew himself. Keywords: patience, the long wait for the return, taking stock, growth that refuses to be hurried.
No audio yet — generation pending.
Lyrics
I’ve got both hands resting heavy on the ash-wood hoe Let my chin drop down to my chest The dirt in the treads of these boots is packed hard And the sun is sliding off to the west I’m looking at the lushness of this thick green line Seven heavy shapes weighing down the vine Yellow and fat in the shadow of the stem And I can’t do a single thing for them You can't dig it up just to see if it's catching You can't yell at a root to rise You put in the sweat, the hauling, the scratching And then you just stand by Yeah, the hardest part of the harvest Is letting the green thing be Leaning on the iron, staring at the tree I hauled forty pounds of bone meal out to this patch Worked it deep with the heel of my hand I guarded against the frost, aching in my back Followed every rule of the land Now the air is thick and the wind is dead I count the veins on a leaf, trying to calculate a sign in my head But the bush just takes what it takes And it absolutely refuses to keep my time 'Cause you can't dig it up just to see if it's catching You can't yell at a root to rise You put in the sweat, the hauling, the scratching And then you just stand by Yeah, the hardest part of the harvest Is letting the green thing be Leaning on the iron, staring at the tree My fingers are twitching, they want a task They want to prune back a branch or spray It’s a terrible thing when the dirt doesn’t ask For a drop of your blood today You just gotta hold your ground While the world turns terribly slow around Seven hanging low Fat and yellow in the shade Nothing left to do but watch them hold Watch the daylight fade Don't touch it Just wait