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.