For some reason, I don't know why
I've always disliked trees.
Although I searched both long and hard
No answer gave me peace.
I looked back at human history,
To see how we dealt with mystery.
"When your logic fails the unknown,
Just think up some shit of your own."
Left no choice, I marched forth,
To make up some glorious shit.
But when I was done, I was scared
By how uncannily it all fit.
Look around yourself, you'll see
That nothing comes for free.
Then why, O why Mr. Tree...
Why this generosity?
Why, O why Mr. Tree...
Why so low have you sunk?
Allowing us to pee on you,
And scratch our names on your trunk?
Why O Why, Mr. Tree
Do you give us fruit and shade?
You won't answer, so I will,
"Coz you fear the axeman's blade."
Why O Why, Mr. Tree,
Would you give us fresh air?
"Coz if you were no use to us,
We'd burn your forests bare."
Above the ground, O Mighty Tree,
You provide such love and care.
But what about down below?
I tell you, it's different there.
I've seen your roots, O Mighty Tree,
Spread wide like the legs of a whore.
Crushing everything in its way,
Clawing towards the very core.
I feel your hate, Mr. Tree,
You wish we were never born.
Don't be hasty, with a little luck
We'll leave Earth and be gone.
I have to say, Mr. Tree
You are a piece of art.
With your patience, your pretence
And your rotting wooden heart.