[Non-Lyrical Intro]
[Spoken Verse]
A monk sits alone one evening in Tokyo
He's waiting patiently for the blossom front to update
He has followed the flowering forecast every year
As it moves northward since he was a small boy
As he sits, he contemplates how all the trees flower at different times
Depending on the sun's path around the buildings and the myriad of temples
And shrines located across the city
The Kanhizakura and its bell-shaped flowers of pink-flushеd tones
The Yamazakura, one of thе oldest species of blossom tree
The Fuganzo and how, in late bloomers, the leaves emerge before their flowers
[Interlude]
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
[Spoken Verse]
Throughout this time, the trees seem to carry him
It is a kind of floating practice
He imagines the great plants and the forest trees unwind
The trees' distinct patterns and shape and form
Their subtle shades and hues
And even a number of petals within each blossom
Stacked on top of each other so delicately
As if they were placed
Just as quickly as the flowers bloom, they disappear
Snow petals drift, forming clusters of held lightness around the green earth and concrete floors
[Non-Lyrical Break]
[Spoken Verse]
And as the seasons change
He knows this may be his last
Every spring, he returns