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Speak to The Trees. They're Lonely

By Martin Ladekarl

I will promise you one thing

Chopped paint tastes better with pain

As does dry metal

Frankly better than that old saying:

Truth is madder than fiction

Trees still want to have best friends

Nothing bonds better

Than knowing this comes to an end

I will mistake you for you

That hair past my pay grade

That is to say you

Aren’t looking for that kinda fade

Truth is I will join the birds

Even if the wires are cut

And signals hang low

The birds will just sit on their butts

I will lay the body out

For all the birds to see

But birds don’t meddle

And they surely don’t speak to trees


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