Track 1 of the single Mushroom Season · 2026
Mushroom Season
by Silas Marrow
“This one's my grandmother's, really; I just put a tune under her lessons about leaves, roots, and patience. It's the closest I come to dancing on a porch.”
indie folk · appalachian folk · porch pickin' · acoustic · 2:36
Lyrics
My grandmother taught me to walk with my eyes down Through the wet leaves and the oak-root maze Basket on my arm and a knife in my pocket And a lecture on what never to eat It's mushroom season, the woods are damp and wise Little caps like lanterns underneath the autumn skies We don't pick what we can't name, she'd say with a grin Look with your eyes first, then let the day begin The mist hangs low between the beeches Every footstep soft as a held breath A ring of white in the mossy shadow Like a fairy tale that we're not allowed to take It's mushroom season, the woods are damp and wise Little caps like lanterns underneath the autumn skies We don't pick what we can't name, she'd say with a grin Look with your eyes first, then let the day begin I have her basket on the hallway hook Woven wide and a little bit frayed Some inheritance is a book of recipes Some is the habit of paying attention So I walk the wet path with a child by my side Showing her the gills and the colour of the stem And I hear my grandmother laughing in the branches Saying, slowly now, there's no need to rush It's mushroom season, the woods are damp and wise Little caps like lanterns underneath the autumn skies We don't pick what we can't name, I say with a grin Look with your eyes first, then let the day begin Look with your eyes first Let the day begin